


Clean Hands

by meng_ren



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Lawyers, Alternate Universe - Politics, Blackmail, Bribery, Cheating, Legal Drama, M/M, Seventeen Are All Lawyers, White Collar Crime
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-03-30
Packaged: 2019-03-13 18:44:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,174
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13576680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meng_ren/pseuds/meng_ren
Summary: Jeon Wonwoo is an anti-corruption prosecutor, assigned to take down one of the country’s most powerful politicians. The only man standing in his way is up-and-coming lawyer Kim Mingyu.[Lawyers! AU]





	1. obliti privatorum, publica curate

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Mags (on Twitter @xiujihun) for helping edit my story.

_obliti privatorum, publica curate_

Latin — _forget private affairs, take care of public ones_

\---

It was morning in Uiheung, and the city had not yet begun to stir.

Jeon Wonwoo rubbed his eyes in an attempt to stave off sleep. The overnight train ride from Hwayang had been less than pleasant, as he had tried to stay asleep in his cold, cramped cabin. He had the privilege of a single room, fortunately, which gave him enough space to store two large bags of luggage. Sometime after midnight, he had managed to fall asleep while sitting upright, with his head leaning against the window.

Right now, five hours later, his neck had a sore ache, his eyes were tired, and he wanted little more than to crawl into a nice warm bed with his boyfriend by his side. Kwon Soonyoung had been extremely cautious when they learned of Wonwoo’s urgent transfer. Uiheung was six hours southeast of their home in Hwayang and the two of them would need to move. But Wonwoo had given his reassurances that all would be okay. He had already paid the down payment for a new apartment on the city’s edge, and had learned last night that Soonyoung would be transferring as well. They would be alright.

He was huddled outside the train station, bundled up in a large jacket, trying to decide how he would get to work. The bus was late—public transport in Uiheung was unreliable—and that meant he could only rely on a taxi. He stuck out a stiff arm as he tried to hail a cab. The first three drivers ignored him, zipping past him, even though there weren’t any other customers outside the train station. The fourth finally slowed down for him. The taxi driver, a middle-aged woman with a pleasant expression, stopped her car.

Wonwoo and the driver silently lifted the luggage into the taxi. It wasn’t until he had made himself seated that he finally made his destination known.

“Uiheung District Prosecutor’s Office, please,” he said, finding the warmth of the taxi interior to be a relief.

“And that would be?” The taxi driver asked, with an unsure expression. She spoke with the clipped, nasal tones of the Uiheung dialect, a dialect that Wonwoo had not heard in many years.

“By the courthouse. The large glass building at the intersection of Inheon Road and Mokkwang Avenue,” Wonwoo answered. He chose to answer in the Hwayang dialect. It would be best if he didn’t embarrass himself on his first day back.

The driver gave a nod and began to drive the car. “The prosecutor’s office, eh? Are you some sort of criminal, Mr. …”

“Jeon Wonwoo,” he replied, confidence beginning to enter his voice. “I’m not a criminal. In fact, I’m going there for a job.”

“A job?” The taxi driver asked in mild surprise. “At the prosecutor’s office? You are a prosecutor?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Yes, I was just transferred here from Hwayang.”

The taxi driver gave a scoff. “Then you’ll never get used to here. People in Uiheung are different. They’re not law-abiding folks like you in Hwayang. We don’t follow the rules, we’re never on time, and we’re only looking out for ourselves.”

“That’s not true,” Wonwoo replied, slipping into the regional dialect with ease he did not expect. This was his city too, and he was determined to let the taxi driver know. “Uiheung is my hometown. Sure, we can be selfish, but we’re utterly determined, self-reliant, and hardworking. There’s the saying here. ‘An Uiheung man is unstoppable.’”

“You speak like a true native. How long did you live here?” asked the driver, continuing to ask. Wonwoo was beginning to find her a little more inquisitive than he hoped. Still, there was nothing too sensitive in her questions.

“All of my childhood. I only moved to Hwayang for university,” Wonwoo said.

“And if I could ask a bit more, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi, where did you go to school?” The questions were continuing, unabated.

“Yangmyung University,” Wonwoo beamed. Now this was something he could not refrain from discussing. Every self-respecting alumnus would boast about graduating from the country’s best university.

“Yangmyung, really?” The driver gave a scoff and shook her head. “My cousin went to Yeonsoong. She says it’s better, and I agree.”

“Your cousin is wrong,” said Wonwoo with a smirk. Yangmyung, Yeonsoong, and Yoonghwa were the country’s best universities, all located in Hwayang. The three schools called themselves the “3Y” schools, and each one had a tremendous rivalry with the other two. “I went there. I can say that Yangmyung is the country’s best university.”

“Whatever you say, Prosecutor-nim,” the taxi driver continued. “And if I may ask, how long are you staying here?”

“I knew I was going to be promoted for a while, but I had to start work early because of a sudden vacancy in the office,” Wonwoo said.

“Working so early in the morning? You just stepped off the train. Why not go to a home or a hotel?”

“I was told that the situation was urgent, though not quite an emergency.”

“Surely you could have declined? Unless you really love your hometown that much.”

“My superiors said I was the best person in the office for a specific task. They couldn’t send anybody else, and I wasn’t in a good position to refuse them.”

“And what task is that?”

Wonwoo gave a short laugh. “I’m not at liberty to disclose that. It’s confidential.”

“Of course, Prosecutor-nim. It must be such an amazing thing, being a prosecutor,” the taxi driver said with some marvel.

“It’s not just wielding power,” Wonwoo tried to explain. “Especially not as a deputy prosecutor. We’re held accountable by our supervisors and by the judges. Everything we do is scrutinized. Many of our decisions need a supervisor’s signature, and when we do get freedom, our supervisors will frequently step in and overrule us. It’s a job with far more scrutiny than power.”

“But when you do have power?”

“Then we collectively become the most powerful person in the justice system. We alone decide which cases require investigation. When we uncover suspects, we alone decide who gets charged with what crimes. We decide what plea bargains we take, and whether we appeal. The judges and defense attorneys often have their hands tied when the prosecution decides to act.”

“Then you are truly powerful. Thank you for enlightening me, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi,” the taxi driver said.

The courthouse was only a short distance from the train station. By now, the two of them had reached Wonwoo’s destination. The driver stopped the car outside the prosecution office, and turned around in her seat to look at Wonwoo. “The fare is $14.80, accounting for the luggage. But—” She hesitated for just a second.

“But what?”

“The ride was so short, and you managed to teach me so many things, and I am so glad to know somebody is returning to Uiheung after many years. Instead of paying me, how about you just remember my name, in case I ever run into legal trouble?” She pointed to the dashboard, where a sign in the Latin alphabet read HYUN JUYEON.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Wonwoo answered, pursing his lips.

“Is it illegal?” The woman inquired with a tilt of her head, trying to sound extra-friendly.

It wasn’t illegal for government officials to accept gifts of less than $15 as long as they reported it, so Wonwoo answered after some thought. “It’s not illegal.”

“Then why can’t you accept it?” The woman tilted her head in the opposite direction.

“Because it gives the appearance of impropriety,” Wonwoo responded, after thinking about the issue again.

“I see,” said the taxi driver. She exited the car to begin unloading Wonwoo’s luggage. Wonwoo stepped out, taking a second to stare at the large glass-and-steel building that housed the prosecutor’s office. He could see right through, to where a number of lawyers were already sitting at their cubicles with their cases.

The taxi driver handed Wonwoo his luggage again. “Don’t bother with paying. Follow me inside.” Her voice suddenly switched to the polished, fluent English used in the workplace setting.

The realization was beginning to dawn on Wonwoo, as he walked behind her with his suitcases in tow.

“You don’t know how many junior prosecutors failed that test,” she said, walking briskly up the ramp as Wonwoo followed on her heels. “Not just the payment step. The number of people who leak confidential information should shock you. Others reveal information about themselves that is better left unsaid.”

“If you’re not a taxi driver, what are you? A police officer? A prosecutor?” Wonwoo asked, switching languages as well, as they stepped through the building lobby. Neither of them bothered to stop at the metal detectors, as the woman merely flashed her badge to let her and Wonwoo through. And once inside, a number of people took the time to stop and get out of the woman’s way.

“Your new boss, Prosecutor Jeon. Chief Hyun Juyeon, head of the Anti-Corruption Division here in Uiheung.” She finally stopped before the elevators to hand him an ID card of his own.

It read:

_JEON WONWOO_

_DEPUTY PROSECUTOR_

_ANTI-CORRUPTION DIVISION_

_PROSECUTOR-GENERAL’S OFFICE_

“Your office is going to be on the sixth floor. Leave your stuff there, and meet me in the sixth floor interrogation room. It’s only your first day of work, but you’ll need to hit the ground running. I had you transferred here for an urgent reason,” explained Chief Hyun. “So get ready.”

**-**

The interrogation room was exactly how Wonwoo had expected it to be: airy, clean, and organized. The suspect, a thin man with a sickly complexion, was sitting by the window, staring at trees in the distance. Wonwoo and Chief Hyun sat by the one-way mirror, watching the suspect but invisible to him.

“Normally I don’t pull people out of the Hwayang office on such short notice, but my chief deputy had to take paternity leave and I need somebody to replace him if we go to trial. You, as it turns out, have trial experience with serious felonies,” Chief Hyun explained as she sipped from a large cup of coffee.

“What type of felonies are you expecting, and what is the case?” Wonwoo asked. He had a stack of papers in hand, reading through them frantically in preparation of the interrogation. The files listed business transactions, but Wonwoo could not see exactly what type of white-collar crime was at hand.

“I’ll explain, since we’re waiting for the suspect’s lawyer to arrive anyways,” said Chief Hyun. She pointed to the suspect. “The Narcotics Division arrested this man while he was trying to buy drugs. And then he said he had more information that we would want to know, offering it as part of a deal. And there’s his lawyer, right there. Send in Prosecutor Yoon,” Chief Hyun ordered, speaking to a police officer outside the interrogation room.

Wonwoo watched the scene unfold. The suspect sat in the right side of the room. His attorney, a heavy-set, older man, sat next to him. On the left side of the room was a man about Wonwoo’s age, stunningly pretty, with black hair parted to one side.

“Jang Shiho-ssi,” began the prosecutor, looking at the suspect with an inquisitive expression. “You don’t look well. Is that a symptom of withdrawal, from the cocaine?”

“Prosecutor-nim, are we really here to deal with this issue?” The man’s lawyer asked.

Chief Hyun’s lip curled in a sneer as she turned towards Wonwoo. “That’s Ahn Kyungjae, from Seongmang Law Firm. That entire firm is mobbed up. Their lawyers are frequent fliers in these offices.”

“We’re not,” said Prosecutor Yoon, turning to look at the defense attorney. “I just want to remind Jang Shiho-ssi that there are no drugs in jail. But you have something to help you avoid that, don’t you?”

The suspect gave a gulp, and nodded. “Yes. If you just let me explain. I’m a middle-ranked manager at Segye Geonsol.”

The name of the company caught Wonwoo’s attention. Segye Geonsol was one of the largest engineering firms in the country, as the construction arm of the larger Segye chaebol.

“I know that. I’ve read your file,” Prosecutor Yoon said with a fake smile.

“I’m responsible for contracting in Uiheung. Road construction, primarily, with some work in the subways,” grimaced the suspect.

“I would pretend to be fascinated, but that would be a lie.” Prosecutor Yoon’s tone was both condescending and intimidating.

“Segye Geonsol got the contract for the Money Pit. Or at least that’s what people call it.”

“The National Highway 12 Commuter Bypass, I think you mean.” Prosecutor Yoon sat back in his chair to fix a curious expression on the subject. “It goes underneath the river to link downtown Uiheung to the national highway system. Segye Geonsol got the contract, right?”

“Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction, in a joint bid. I was there when the city issued the contract, ten years ago, and I accordingly managed our work with subcontractors,” said the man. “I have some information about how Segye Geonsol got the contract. And I can tell you, for a deal.”

“I’m suggesting that if my client cooperates with this information, the Prosecutor-General’s Office will decline to file the drug charges,” explained Attorney Ahn. “My client’s a first-time offender.”

“I didn’t hear anything exciting,” said Prosecutor Yoon, leaning back again and twirling a pen in his hand. “You say you have information, and you want to make a deal, but I don’t even have an inkling as to what you know.”

“You didn’t hear enough, then,” said the suspect. “I didn’t do any of this—I wasn’t at a rank to do this—but I heard about how Segye was awarded the contract. It had to do with Jeong Eunseok, the former head of the Infrastructure Division.”

Prosecutor Yoon stopped twirling his pen, seemingly interested in hearing more about this new name.

“He’s CEO Jeong now, but then he was just Division Leader Jeong,” continued the suspect. “I was at a company dinner, more like a company drinking session, immediately after the contract was awarded. All of the executives were there to celebrate, and I was very junior, but Jeong was walking around the room drunkenly throughout the whole time. At one point in the night, he stopped next to me to talk with my boss. He told her, drunkenly, that we had three officials to thank for the contract.”

Prosecutor Yoon’s eyes were now much more focused in intensity.

“He said, at this rate, it was going to be more costly to bribe politicians than to build the actual roads. When my boss expressed confusion, CEO Jeong explained that more than a few dollars were necessary to grease hands. There were three government officials in Uiheung that he needed to bribe, but it was worth it, to get Segye Geonsol the biggest construction contract that the city had ever seen.”

“And that is why you said you had information for us,” mused Prosecutor Yoon. “But this is hearsay. You can’t prove any of it.”

“But don’t you want to know who he named?” The suspect said, leaning forward. “Just the information to help you get started? If I name these names, the earth will shake.”

“You can give me the names, for a start,” said the prosecutor. “And if we have evidence of wrongdoing, then we will uphold our part of the deal. Who were the three?”

“Director Jeong claimed to have bribed three people. First,” said the suspect, holding up one finger. “Chief Deputy City Manager Kim Seungjae.”

Prosecutor Yoon gave a nod. “Somebody worth looking into.”

“Second. Seo Dongjoon, former Speaker of the Uiheung City Council.” The suspect added.

“He’s retired now,” said Prosecutor Yoon, with a slight frown. “He’s a diminished figure, even if we can pursue him for past wrongdoing. And the last one?”

“Third, and this will really shake the country.” said the suspect, now assured of his own importance. “Representative Bok Junghyun.”

It was like a lightning bolt had struck the room and stunned all of the prosecutors.

Wonwoo’s eyes bulged as he stared, looking first at Chief Hyun, then to Prosecutor Yoon, and then back to Chief Hyun. Neither of the other two prosecutors moved for a full second.

And then Prosecutor Yoon’s eyes flashed towards the window, hesitating and seeking direction. Chief Hyun pressed a button by the window. “Prosecutor Yoon, get back in here. Now.”

Prosecutor Yoon almost jumped from his seat, walking quickly out of the interrogation room back into the prosecutors’ room. He took the time to wipe his hands nervously on his pants as he entered again.

“Chief Hyun,” he said, with a quick bow, not taking the time to glance at Wonwoo.

“Fuck.” Chief Hyun said nothing else to Prosecutor Yoon, turning instead to Wonwoo. “This changes things. I think you realize that. I think everybody realizes that. He just accused Bok Junghyun of taking bribes.”

Wonwoo gulped and nodded. As secretary-general of the ruling party, Bok Junghyun was one of the country’s most powerful politicians, and easily the dominant figure in Uiheung’s politics, overshadowing the mayor or the city council. Such an accusation would make national headlines, maybe even international headlines, if it were credible.

“We have a protocol,” Chief Hyun said, on the verge of ranting. “When accusations of corruption are leveled at a sitting member of the National Assembly, any member, we are required to investigate for credibility. This accusation demands investigation, Prosecutor Jeon, Prosecutor Yoon. If the allegation is true, our entire office will be forced to orient itself around this prosecution.”

“So we investigate then?” Prosecutor Yoon’s face was pale and his voice higher in pitch than during the investigation.

“Of course,” snapped Chief Hyun, turing towards him with a grim expression. “We’re prosecutors, aren’t we? But we will need to be careful. Very careful. Nothing about this interview leaves this room. Don’t even write a report about this interview, because I’ll take care of that. Now Prosecutor Yoon, go back in the room to hear the rest of the accusation.”

Prosecutor Yoon snapped to attention, walking back to the room at a noticeably slower pace. He returned to his prior spot, attempting to compose himself.

“What else did CEO Jeong say about these bribes?” He said, his voice returning to normal.

“Nothing,” admitted the suspect, sitting still again. “He moved onto talking to another division leader soon afterwards.”

“And who was your boss at the time, so we might confirm this conversation?”

“Baek Heeyoon. She’s now the head of Segye Geonsol’s branch in Australia.”

“Your accusations are hearsay and the other witness is unavailable,” Prosecutor Yoon said, sitting upright at his seat. “You have no proof of these bribes.”

“No, I don’t,” agreed the man. “But I was in charge of subcontracting, and I noticed something interesting. The Money Pit is over budget, of course.”

“For various reasons, yes,” agreed Prosecutor Yoon.

“While paying the subcontractors, I had a look at Segye Geonsol’s finances,” said the suspect. “Most of the money we paid went to reputable engineering firms. But one account saw us pay at least a million dollars to a Panama corporation which was in turn owned by a Bermuda LLC. There was no commercial purpose behind that transfer. The money must have been a bribe, transferred to a foreign slush fund.”

“We’ll need to see something more,” said Prosecutor Yoon. “We can’t just rely on your tale about the company’s finances.”

“It wouldn’t be hard to find something more … physical,” answered the suspect.

“And then the drug charges?” Attorney Ahn asked.

“If you produce something useful, the charges will be dismissed,” said Prosecutor Yoon. “But until we get more proof of this potential bribe, there are no offers on the table. We will file the drug charges against you the moment we think you are being dishonest with us.”

“An amicable resolution,” said Attorney Ahn, rising up from the table. His client followed suit. “Be prepared for the next time my client arrives. Once we have proof, everything will change.”

The suspect and the lawyer departed, leaving just Prosecutor Yoon in the room. Chief Hyun and Wonwoo remained behind the glass, turning to look at each other.

“How are we going to investigate?” Wonwoo asked.

“There’s almost nothing we can do,” said Chief Hyun with a shake of her head. “We can’t subpoena Baek Heeyoon-ssi from Australia with just this evidence. If the suspect gets us that file, we can investigate where the money trail goes. But there’s no guarantee that foreign authorities will be cooperative with us.”

“So then what?”

“We act anyways. Proceed as if there are suspicions that Representative Bok Junghyun received a bribe from Segye Geonsol in regards to the highway bypass. I will ask the police to perform a standard investigation. You will perform your part of the investigation by finding any signs of wrongdoing. We’ll start by watching the suspects for any suspicious sources of wealth, and then going from there.”

“All of the suspects?”

“All of them. I’ll make the decision whether to charge any of them once an investigation is complete. But for now, Prosecutor Jeon, investigate all three of them. Do not rush to pass judgment on guilt or innocence,” Chief Hyun sood up as spoke, signaling the conversation’s end. “And play by the rules, Prosecutor Jeon. It’s what keeps us on this side of the glass.”

She left, and then Wonwoo was left alone in the room.

**-**

“You seem distracted.”

Wonwoo looked up to see Soonyoung in the middle of the kitchen, arranging flowers in a vase. The older man had an apron over his clothes, looking ready for a challenge as he prepared to cook.

“Yeah. I’m busy with work.” Trying to untangle a possible bribery ring between chaebol and politicians. Wonwoo said nothing more, leaning back into his sofa seat. He closed his eyes to listen as soft music played from the house’s speaker system. He was glad that he and Soonyoung’s job was transferred to Uiheung as well. Otherwise, Wonwoo would have been all alone in the city.

“You don’t seem busy,” said Soonyoung, trying to settle on what they would be eating for dinner. “You seem distracted. Is it something you can tell me?”

Always the supportive boyfriend, Wonwoo thought, before shaking his head. “I can’t. It’s work. Top-secret stuff.”

“Of course,” said Soonyoung, beginning to wash vegetables. “All of your work is secret. It always has been.”

When they had first started dating, Wonwoo had felt a tiny bit disappointed that he couldn’t talk about his work at home. Soonyoung always could. They might both have worked as lawyers for the Ministry of Justice, but their fields of practice were on opposite ends of the spectrum. Wonwoo was a criminal prosecutor. Soonyoung worked in the civil division, where there was less need for secrecy.

“And anything new for you, Soonyoung-ah?” Wonwoo asked. Soonyoung was now moving on to chopping vegetables instead.

“Everything’s new for me too,” answered Soonyoung. “The Civil Division had more than a few open cases to assign me. That’s how they were able to accommodate transferring me alongside you. My newest case is going to involve a government tort. An inmate suffered a slip-and-fall in a prison shower and now he’s suing the government. It’s nothing too major, though he might even win.”

“It’s important too,” said Wonwoo with a frown.He had always taken affront to anybody who belittled Soonyoung’s work. If Soonyoung was important to him, then Soonyoung’s work should be important too. “Don’t say your work is unimportant.”

“It doesn’t involve prison time, or at least, it won’t result in prison time,” said Soonyoung nonchalantly.

Wonwoo continued to frown, biting at a lip, even as Soonyoung continued explaining work.

“There are some harder cases I probably need to settle. One case involves a police dog biting off a man’s finger. Another involves an unlawful arrest and claims of illegal search-and-seizure,” Soonyoung said. After a few more moments he was done cutting the vegetables too.

“See, that’s important!” Wonwoo said in reassurance. “You’re dealing with constitutional rights.”

Soonyoung was now in front of the stove, wielding a spatula in hand. “I’ll tell you about it after dinner, okay? And we only have vegetables right now, so we’re eating light tonight, okay? I’ll treat you to a steak tomorrow after I buy groceries tomorrow,” he said, turning his head over his shoulder.

Wonwoo gave Soonyoung a sly grin. “Oh really? Well, I could treat you to some meat tonight.”

Soonyoung turned, face flushing red but laughing all the same. “You! Jeon Wonwoo! Is it right for a lawyer to make these types of jokes?”

“Was that a yes or a no, Kwon Soonyoung-ssi, because I didn’t know you had it in you to decline,” Wonwoo answered with a laugh.

“Of course that was a yes,” said Soonyoung, turning to his stove and preparing to cook again.

They took that dinner together, the way they normally did back in Hwayang, eating on the balcony by candlelight. But the view was now different. In Hwayang, they could gaze upon city lights from their house up on the hill. Here in Uiheung, they had a view of the beach instead. The scene was darker, but prettier.

Their meal was simple and filling, the way Soonyoung usually cooked. It wasn’t particularly tasty—cooking was not one of Soonyoung’s strengths, even if he was responsible for their meals—but Wonwoo ate every morsel on his plate anyways.

After the meal, they finished the chores that they had divided: if Soonyoung was in charge of cooking their meals, then Wonwoo would handle washing the dishes and taking out the trash.

They ended their night as they usually did, in bed being physically intimate with each other. As always, it was Wonwoo inside Soonyoung. This time, Soonyoung on his back and looking up while Wonwoo was between his thighs, penetrating him on every downward thrust. They were always careful with each other like this: Soonyoung made sure to never leave a mark on Wonwoo’s back no matter how much he raked it with his nails, and Wonwoo reciprocated the same care as he bit at Soonyoung’s neck. They were always quiet, never loud, always soft.

Wonwoo finished first—rather, he was the only one who climaxed that night, spilling himself onto Soonyoung’s belly, and then taking the time to clean his boyfriend off with a tissue. And because it was still early in the night, not yet past eleven, the two of them lay together on the bed.

“Soonyoung-ah?” Wonwoo said quietly, staring up at the ceiling.

“Hmmm?” Soonyoung had his eyes closed, even if he was awake, content to lay on the bed with his head on Wonwoo’s shoulder.

“Where’s your hometown again?” Wonwoo was thinking of his conversation with Chief Hyun earlier that week, about people from Uiheung.

“Gyeju. Why?” Though he couldn’t see Soonyoung’s face, Wonwoo could hear the confusion in the answer.

“It’s a lot different from Uiheung, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asked He knew Gyeju was an agricultural community east of Hwayang, in Geunki Province, but knew almost nothing else about it.

“It is,” Soonyoung said. He rolled over in the bed, laying on his stomach as he rested his chin on Wonwoo’s chest and looked at his boyfriend. “It’s a small town. Lots of farms. Nothing like Uiheung, with all these factories and the smog and construction going on everywhere. Half of Uiheung is concrete, and the other half is steel.”

“We get the sea though, don’t we? And I thought you would like living in a city with millions of people.”

“I didn’t like Hwayang just because there were lots of people. I liked it because I also liked the people there. Here though? Yes there are million of people, but they’re Uiheung people,” Soonyoung, his tone joking.

“I’m an Uiheung man,” said Wonwoo with an expression of mock protest as he looked at Soonyoung. Soonyoung’s eyes had narrowed, in that way that Wonwoo found adorable, with a crooked smile to match.

“I know. I was teasing” Soonyoung said, tapping a finger to Wonwoo’s lips.

Wonwoo’s heart leapt in his chest at that brief, endearing gesture, even if the two of them had just finished being intimate. Soonyoung was the softest in the afterglow of sex—body warm to the touch, content to just lay against Wonwoo’s chest in a tender embrace—and Wonwoo knew that no other men could make them feel like this. His mouth opened to take in Soonyoung’s finger, tongue swirling around the first digit.

The older man jerked his hand back. “Wonwoo-ya! We just finished!” Soonyoung said. Wonwoo gave a mischievous laugh, wrapping his hands around Soonyoung’s waist and spinning the two of them around so now that Soonyoung was on his back and Wonwoo was looming over him.

“Rotten Uiheung men, right?” He said, craning his neck down to kiss Soonyoung.

“Rotten Uiheung men,” Soonyoung answered, before leaning up to kiss him again.

**-**

“Do you have a lot of experience with cases like these, Yoon Jeonghan-ssi?” Wonwoo looked at the files before him. Though he had been here for just over a week, he had only learned of Prosecutor Yoon’s full name yesterday.

Jeonghan shook his head. “I used to be a civil attorney,” he explained. “I only joined the Prosecutor-General’s Office two years ago.”

“Then you need to call me seonbaenim,” Wonwoo said, continuing to flip through balance sheets. I’m wondering if Jang Shiho obtained this in a manner we can lawfully use in court, he thought briefly to himself. “Where did you go to school?

“Injeongdang University. Class of 2018.” Jeonghan said, sticking his chin in the air. “I was top of my class. And you, seonbaenim?”

Injeongdang was a respectable school and the best in Uiheung, even if it didn’t compare to the 3Y schools, so Wonwoo gave a nod. “Yangmyung University. I was class of 2019. You must be older than me.”

Jeonghan smiled. “When we go drinking after work, you need to call me hyung.”

“It sounds funny, but I will do that,” grinned Wonwoo. “What made you decide to become a lawyer?”

“I went to law school thinking I would be doing nonprofit legal aid,” Jeonghan explained. He took a look down at the files again. “We should also have a forensic accountant look through this once we’re done.”

“He will, in time,” said Wonwoo, inspecting the cover page of a checkbook.

“There’s also the publicly available information,” said Jeonghan, pressing. “The joint venture is audited by the National Assembly and the Ministry of Transportation’s inspector-general. One of us will need to look at it.”

“One of us can do it,” Wonwoo agreed.

“I should do it. I can work faster with the Segye Geonsol files. I’ll cross-reference the expense reports submitted by Segye Geonsol to the government with their internal payments. I’ll find any discrepancies. I’ll know if Segye Geonsol is billing the government for less than its expenses, because the difference might be paid out in bribes.”

Wonwoo nodded. He appreciated what he was learning about Jeonghan already and understood why Chief Hyun had selected him. The other man was both smart and driven.

“What made you decide to become a prosecutor?” Wonwoo asked, now wanting to know what brought the other man to this office.

“I wanted to have an impact,” Jeonghan said, as he put down the paperwork in his hand to look Wonwoo in the eye.

“I spent four years in downtown Uiheung trying to help low-income tenants fight slumlords who kept apartments in shitty conditions,” Jeonghan explained, his tone becoming vulgar. “I did some work with housing discrimination, but I mainly handled eviction defenses. Clients would settle because they didn’t have the time or money to go to trial. One time I took a case to trial and won a stunning judgment against the landlord. Two days after losing, the landlord unjustly evicted another tenant. It was like nothing had changed.”

Wonwoo turned to look up. Jeonghan’s story was a common one.

“One day I had a realization,” said Jeonghan. “‘These motherfuckers should be in jail,’ I thought. ‘And someone needs to put them there.’ I decided I would be helping tenants more by jailing slumlords rather than suing them.”

Wonwoo nodded as he processed Jeonghan’s statement. “And why are you working for Chief Hyun then?”

“I wanted to go after real crimes. There’s a saying in this country that applies especially to Uiheung. ‘If you steal from a bank, you go to jail.’”

“‘If you steal the bank, you go to Congress.’ I’ve heard the saying. I’m a Uiheung man.” Wonwoo gave a smile.

“Then what about you, seonbaenim?”

Wonwoo paused for a second. “I wanted to see justice too,” he said, before lapsing into silence and looking down at the files again.

After a few minutes more of working in silence, Jeonghan pulled out a file and waved it triumphantly. “Here it is. The balance sheet for the building materials,” he said, displaying it proudly before Wonwoo. “On the third page. Line 25: $2,570,300.00 to Nosan Concrete, a subsidiary of Nosan Construction; Line 26, $567,090.00 to Kwak & Kim Engineering, a subcontractor. And Line 27, $1,060,990.00 to Winning Song, a Panama LLC. It’s like what Jang Shiho said. A million dollar bribe to a foreign slush fund.”

“It’s not good proof. We don’t know whether the money there went to any politicians, or who owns the foreign account,” Wonwoo cautioned.

“It’s a start, isn’t it? Even if foreign authorities won’t give us information, we can double check to see if other chaebol have paid out money to this foreign company,” Jeonghan said eagerly. “There’s bound to be some information publicly available. Or maybe we’ll find other evidence that will get us a subpoena.”

“Yes, we’ll start that way. But tomorrow,” said Wonwoo, stifling a yawn. It was already well past seven. “I’m going home first.” Soonyoung might have finished cooking already.

“But before you leave,” Jeonghan said, interrupting Wonwoo with an excited voice. “There’s something else I want to invite you to. Are you going to be free this weekend?”

Wonwoo’s brow furrowed as he tried to think. Soonyoung had suggested that this weekend they could take a walk along Uiheung’s famous Seosoon Beach or take a hike through Kasan National Park, but he hadn’t confirmed any plans with his boyfriend. “There are some things I want to do, but I don’t have anything firmly decided.”

“You should join us?” Jeonghan said plainly with a determined look on his face.

“Us?” Wonwoo asked, slightly curious. “You, me, Chief Hyun, and the other members of the division?”

“No, not at all,” said Jeonghan with a laugh. “Chief Hyun is a teetotaler. She’ll never make you join a drinking session. No, what I’m talking about is a purely private gathering with some other local lawyers. Most of us are prosecutors but we have some other lawyers too.”

Wonwoo smiled. “And what are we going to do? Party?”

“Just a few rounds of drinks at the Nosan Hotel. You know, the big glass hotel at the corner of Inheon and Jwamin Streets?” Jeonghan asked. “This isn’t a black-tie event. Don’t dress too formally.”

“I know where to go,” Wonwoo said with a nod. “And what time?”

“Tomorrow, Saturday. The penthouse floor. 11:00 PM. And you’re welcome to bring a friend,” said Jeonghan with a wink. “The goal is to have fun.”

Wonwoo had a smile. “I want to see what your definition of ‘fun’ is.” And then he left. He had Soonyoung waiting for him at home.

**-**

“Work’s been good for you, right?” Wonwoo said, entering the bathroom from the kitchen. Soonyoung was still in front of the mirror, working on styling his hair.

“I’m getting more work here than I did in Hwayang, which is weird since—,” Soonyoung answered, until Wonwoo wrapped his arms around the other man’s waist. Soonyoung gave another short yelp when Wonwoo buried his nose into the crook of Soonyoung’s neck. The older man smiled and resumed talking. “Which is weird since I thought the Hwayang office was always the busiest.”

“And how are your co-workers treating you? Anybody I need to beat up? Or investigate?” Wonwoo asked, voice muffled by Soonyoung’s shoulder.

“There’s reportedly a thief stealing my co-worker’s lunches,” Soonyoung answered nonchalantly as he straightened the hem of his shirt.

“Is that thief you?” Wonwoo teased. It was the most comforting to him like this: just holding onto the other man, able to breathe the other man’s scent, feeling Soonyoung’s skin against his. It didn’t even matter what they were talking about.

“It is not, as a matter of fact,” said Soonyoung, closing an eye as he applied his eyeliner in a swift but methodical manner. “Maybe it’s somebody from the Prosecutor-General’s Office. All of you are so skinny from overwork. Would it be a surprise if one of you found himself an extra snack?” He finished with the other eye and reached for the bottle of cologne that they shared.

“Please don’t confront anybody at this party. I don’t think the thief will be there,” Wonwoo said, stepping back as Soonyoung sprayed just a dab of cologne on their wrists and necks.

“Relax. I barely know anybody at the office. I want to get to know people as much as you do.” Soonyoung placed down the cologne to give Wonwoo a peck on the cheek. “Let’s get going.”

Soonyoung drove the two of them to the hotel, an upscale glass building in downtown Uiheung. But when they arrived at the hotel, Wonwoo soon began to suspect Jeonghan was giving him the wrong impression about what was supposed to happen.

The first sign was when he and Soonyoung attempted to board the elevator to the penthouse. A security guard stopped them first, appearing cautious.

“You can’t go up unless you’re a hotel guest or have been otherwise designated,” said the guard, a nervous-looking man. “We’re not allowed to let just anybody up.”

“We’re just going to the penthouse. One of my colleagues should be there already. It’s just past 11:00,” said Wonwoo.

The guard’s eyes went wide briefly. “Oh, you’re with that crowd.” He gave a nervous chuckle, before stepping back. “Of course, go on ahead.”

Soonyoung and Wonwoo only exchanged a glance as they made their way up. As they ascended, the deep throb of techno-electronic music began to make its way into the elevator.

The second sign was when the elevator doors opened up and Wonwoo realized that the whole penthouse was one enormous nightclub, bar, pool, and lounge, all rolled into one. The bar was at one corner, as bartenders handed out martinis and mojitos to men and women in business suits. But at the other end of the floor was a pool and hot tub where guests in bathing suits lounged and sipped at their drinks. Meanwhile, lights in many colors flared through the room as music pulsed, and if the bass was any stronger Wonwoo’s teeth would have rattled in his skull.

It was more like a party than just a round of drinks.

“Wonwoo, you made it!” said a voice from Wonwoo’s side. He turned to see Jeonghan there, in a suit and tie.

“Yoon Jeonghan, this is my boyfriend, Kwon Soonyoung. Soonyoung, Jeonghan,” said Wonwoo first, introducing his boyfriend. Soonyoung was still staring around the room, amazed, but he recovered in time to shake Jeonghan’s hand. “I thought there were just going to be a few lawyers and prosecutors here.”

Jeonghan threw his head back with a laugh. “We are just lawyers and prosecutors here. We rented out the entire club.”

“On a Saturday night?” Soonyoung asked. “It must have cost a fortune.”

“It’s worth it,” Jeonghan beamed, turning back to Wonwoo and Soonyoung. “Here, let me introduce you to some of my friends.”

Wonwoo and Soonyoung followed, as Jeonghan made their way to a quieter private booth with a window overlooking downtown Uiheung. There were five men already there, sitting around a table with drinks scattered about them.

“There’s one more of us still coming, but I wanted to let you guys meet first. Don’t be too shy. We’re all lawyers here,” Jeonghan said, pointing to the group of men.

The first man that Jeonghan introduced appeared to be of mixed Eurasian descent. “Chwe Hansol,” said Jeonghan, as Wonwoo reached to shake his hand. “He’s from the Prosecutor-General’s Office like us, in the Major Case Division.”

The second man was shorter than Wonwoo and looked to be the youngest out of all of them. “Lee Chan. He’s with the Financial Supervisory Commission,” said Jeonghan. “He’s also the baby of the group.” The man gave an annoyed eye roll even as he let Jeonghan reach over and ruffle his hair.

“Lee Jihoon, from the Ministry of Justice’s Anti-Trust Division,” said Jeonghan as he introduced the third man. “Don’t let his height fool you. This man’s the scariest one of us here.” The third man coolly sipped from a cocktail without bothering to look up.

“Lee Seokmin, also from the Ministry of Justice,” said the fourth man, seizing the initiative from Jeonghan. He stood up to offer Soonyoung and Wonwoo a handshake.

“He’s from the Office of Legal Counsel,” explained Jeonghan. “He’s the lawyer we go to when we have questions. And lastly, this is Hong Jisoo, the odd man out of us. He works for the Sanggeun Law Firm doing commercial litigation.”

After Wonwoo and Soonyoung had shaken five pairs of hands, it was time for them to introduce themselves. Wonwoo started first. “I’m Jeon Wonwoo, with the Prosecutor-General’s Office. I work in the same department as Jeonghan. And this is my boyfriend.”

Soonyoung gave a cheerful wave as he introduced himself. “Kwon Soonyoung, from the Ministry of Justice. Civil Division. Pleased to make your acquaintance.”

“Well, make yourselves comfortable,” said Jeonghan. “There’s one more person coming, but this is most of us.”

Wonwoo took a seat next to Seokmin, while Soonyoung and Jeonghan left to grab drinks. Meanwhile, the music continued to pulse and the lights continued to strobe.

“Is everybody in the club a lawyer?” Wonwoo looked around. There were almost a hundred people in the club. “Really? I didn’t know there were this many prosecutors in the whole city.”

“We’re mostly junior lawyers here,” said Hansol with a wave of his hand. “And all of us are close in age and seniority. There’s no need to bring our work hierarchies over here.”

“What about just age hierarchy, right?” Jihoon said with a sly smile, nudging Chan in the ribs.

“Aish, you wish,” Chan replied. “That’s only your second vodka tonic. Isn’t it a little early for you to be drunk, hyung?”

“Don’t be so eager to see Jihoon drunk,” Seokmin pointed out cautiously. “I mean, it’ll be hilarious for us but it won’t be so good on you, Chan.”

Chan shrugged as the group laughed.

“What’s your alcohol tolerance like, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi?” It was Jisoo who asked, as he held a glass of wine in his hand.

“Very low,” Wonwoo answered. “Two beers and I’m done.”

“Oh, so you’re a lightweight,” said Jihoon. “You know that guy you came with, Jeonghan? I went to university with him. Two beers used to be his way of warming up for a real party.”

“You went to Injeongdang like he did?” Wonwoo asked.

There were other chuckles in the room. “Don’t remind him,” said Seokmin. “I mean, we shouldn’t be too invested in our alma maters—”

“Yangmyung alumnus right here,” said Chan with a smirk, raising his hand as the other lawyers all groaned.

“For the millionth time, Lee Chan, we know. You don’t need to remind us every time we meet up,” said Hansol. He looked at the newcomers. “We might as well ask you, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi, Kwon Soonyoung-ssi.”

Wonwoo looked up to see Soonyoung behind him with some sort of fizzy water in his hand. He knew that Soonyoung had no alcohol tolerance.

He let his boyfriend answer first. “Donggwang University’s Class of 2018,” Soonyoung explained. Donggwang was a good school located in Hwayang’s suburbs, comparable to Jihoon and Jeonghan’s school.

Wonwoo tried to relieve any tension when it was his turn to speak. “It doesn’t matter now, since we’re all working at the same offices and handling the same types of cases, but I went to Yangmyung too. Class of 2019. We didn’t drink as hard though.”

After a pause, Jihoon nodded to continue what he was saying. “But yes, I went to Injeongdang. We’re not the most famous school, but we’re unmatched at our drinking culture. Students focused on different drinks literally every day. I remember Whiskey Wednesday, Soju Saturday, and Free-for-all Fridays, just off the top of my head.”

Hansol gave a snort. “I actually studied when I went to school. You know where I was on my Fridays? I was in the library.”

“How principled of you, Hansol,” said Jeonghan, now appearing at their table with a pitcher of beer in each hand. “Give me a hand with this, won’t you?”

Soonyoung helped the group grab some glasses for the ones drinking beers. While each drinker filled his own glass with beer, Jihoon grabbed a bottle of soju and liberally topped each glass with an additional shot.

“Cheers!” Chan said first.

“Cheers!” Said the rest of them, each person drinking their drink of choice. Wonwoo took care to pay attention to what everybody else was drinking. Soonyoung had his seltzer water and Jisoo had his red wine, but all of the other men treated themselves to the beer and soju cocktail.

Jeonghan was the first one to break off drinking, draining half of his drink and wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Ah, that hit the spot.”

The seven of them then began to talk, about anything and everything. Mostly, they used the time to discuss how Uiheung impacted their life, work, and politics. And when they discussed the latter, Wonwoo found it was much more valuable to spend his time listening rather than talking.

“I’m really glad I’m not busy right now,” explained Seokmin, during one conversation. “My girlfriend just got a promotion and we’re wondering whether we should stay in Uiheung or not. I have a lot of time now to decide whether we should stay in Uiheung or not.”

“What’s wrong with this city?” Jihoon asked. “Uiheung is my hometown.”

“Mine too,” said Wonwoo, speaking up. “If you’ve got some problem with it, you’re going to need to justify it.”

“Well,” said Seokmin, slightly shrinking. “Uiheung is a very liberal city. Between the striking communists and the rioting anarchists, it’s hard to know what you’re getting on any given day. I’m still not used to it. I’m from Jincheon, and while that’s not a super-conservative city, it’s still really different from Uiheung.”

“That’s your reason?” Jihoon raised an eyebrow. “I mean, I know the old joke about the People’s Republic of Uiheung, but the city’s grown more conservative in the past decade.”

“It’s one of the few places in the country where the Communists are still a potent electoral force,” pointed out Hansol, and Wonwoo had to admit that the younger man had a point.

“Uiheung elected a conservative mayor four years ago, and a very conservative one at that,” retorted Jihoon.

“Only because the Communists split the left-wing vote,” said Seokmin, resuming his argument with confidence. He gave a shrug while holding his beer mug in one hand.

“There must be more than that, you know,” said Soonyoung with some skepticism.

“Listen, I don’t want to look down on Uiheung people, but you have a reputation, you know? Between its crooked politicians and its urban decay, it’s hard to argue that Uiheung is a good place to start a family, right? That’s what my girlfriend and I are talking about.”

“Oh, so now we’re crooked?” Jihoon said, with even stronger skepticism than Wonwoo. “Name one politician.”

Seokmin refused to back down. “I can do three. Jang Heekyu, Bok Junghyun, and Kang Seokju.”

Wonwoo briefly flinched, as his ears perked up at mention of Bok Junghyun’s name.

“None of them has ever been accused of anything. They’re considered role models in national politics,” Chan said warily, and Seokmin resumed looking defensive.

“I just don’t like them. They’ve never seen a liberal cause they didn’t like,” he said, without saying more. “Why do you guys like Uiheung so much anyways?”

“Well, we live here, don’t we?” Jihoon said, resuming control of the conversation as he finished off his beer. “I think Uiheung is a fine place. We have a vibrant arts scene. Besides Hwayang and maybe Taeju, what other cities can boast that they have their own orchestra, ballet company, and national art museum?”

Wonwoo gave a nod in agreement, reaching over to clink his beer mug against Jihoon’s. “Cheers to Uiheung.”

Jihoon reciprocated his cheer and the both drank. Wonwoo took a swig, and drained the rest of his mug in a single glass.

“I’m going to get another drink,” he said, standing up. His newfound friends began another conversation topic—about whether Hwayang’s standard of living was overpriced—and Wonwoo took that opportunity to head towards the bar.

It was past midnight, but he had yet to feel tired. He was pleasantly surprised to also find that his throat wasn’t hoarse despite the need to speak up over the music. But that beer and soju cocktail must have had more soju than he remembered, because he could already feel the effect of the alcohol as he walked over.

And there was a man there.

Not just any man, but a man, Wonwoo had to admit to himself. Long, lean, and tall, with a handsome profile illuminated just right in the dim light.

And the man was standing in front of him, close enough that he could overhear what the man was ordering.

“I’ll take a whiskey, straight up, and you can put it on the tab,” Wonwoo overheard, though he was more focused on the man’s legs and back as he spoke. And once he received his drink, the new man took a seat at the bar.

Wonwoo swallowed, throat feeling slightly more constricted than before, as he approached the bartender.

“I’ll get what he got,” Wonwoo managed to get out, an unfamiliar feeling of nervousness in the pit of his stomach. He leaned forward against the bar without making eye contact with the man besides him.

The bartender seemed unsure if Wonwoo had heard what the first man had ordered. “Straight whiskey. Are you sure?” The bartender asked again.

“Yeah. I mean, yes,” said Wonwoo, and when the bartender turned around, Wonwoo finally took the chance to turn around and look at the other man.

“You look like you’ve never ordered a drink before,” said the other man with a gentle but deep laugh as he saw Wonwoo look at him.

“Haven’t done it at this bar,” muttered Wonwoo, half under his breath. “It’s my first time here.”

“In Uiheung? New to the town?” The banter rolled off the other man’s tongue.

“In the Nosan Hotel. I didn’t know they had this penthouse nightclub,” said Wonwoo

As he spoke, he let his voice slip pointedly into the Uiheung dialect. The other man, in contrast, had the polished lilt that marked the Hwayang dialect.

“Once you start coming here, you won’t stop,” said the other man confidently. “Especially when it’s warmer in the summer and everybody orders their drinks in the pool.”

“I’m not afraid of the cold,” said Wonwoo. “If I had known about the option tonight, I would be swimming right now. You?”

“Maybe I would have joined you,” said the taller man with an easy smile. Wonwoo’s drink arrived then, and he grabbed it with more enthusiasm than he intended to show the other man.

“I’m Jeon Wonwoo,” Wonwoo said, aware that he might have appeared slightly embarrassing. “I’m not really good at meeting new people.”

“But I am.” The other man smiled again, eyes eager. “I’m Kim Mingyu by the way. Nice to make your acquaintance. Cheers.”

He extended his drink, and Wonwoo returned the motion. “Cheers,” he agreed, as they clinked their glasses.

Wonwoo took a swig, even as the liquor stung his nose and sent warmth down his throat. He coughed, out of character. It wasn’t his first time drinking liquor straight, even if he didn’t like it. But it was the first time with this man.

“I was told everybody here tonight is a lawyer,” said Wonwoo, remembering Jeonghan’s statement.

“That’s what I was told too,” Mingyu said. “And I am, in fact. I work at Hankwang Law Firm, handling white-collar defense.”

“Hankwang?” Wonwoo gave a frown. “Haven’t heard of them.”

“You might not have heard of Hankwang before, but we’re a name you’re going to remember. We’re a small boutique firm,” Mingyu explained after a sip of his drink. “Four partners and then there’s me and two other associates. But we’re a proud firm. We’re the type of people you’d hire in a fight.”

“I’m the person you’d need to fight,” Wonwoo said. He rested his elbow against the bar and leaned his head against his hand as he looked at Mingyu. “I’m with the Prosecutor-General’s Office.”

Mingyu gave a chuckle. “A fine office. Half the lawyers in our firm used to work there, but they joined us because we pay better.”

“And you?” Wonwoo asked, while noting Mingyu’s cool, relaxed posture. “Did you join them from our office?”

Mingyu shook his head. “The Prosecutor-General’s Office gave me a job offer, just after I graduated from university. But I turned them down. Hankwang doesn’t just pay me well; they also treat me well.” Mingyu picked up his glass and turned his head towards the booths. “I was going to meet some friends. Do you mind?”

Wonwoo followed Mingyu’s gaze to realize that Mingyu meant the group that Wonwoo had left.

“You mean the group of prosecutors that I was just talking to?” Wonwoo picked up his glass as well, with Mingyu talking again as the two of them walked over.

“Those same people,” Mingyu said as they made their way back

“Ah, Mingyu, what took you so long?” Jeonghan was the one speaking. When he looked at the table, Wonwoo had to take a grimace at the sight.

Seokmin had his eyes closed, passed out with a small trickle of saliva running from his chin. Soonyoung in turn had his head on the man’s shoulder, struggling to keep his eyes open.

“What happened here?” Wonwoo asked, feeling confused. Soonyoung did not drink, but he looked passed-out right now. “Soonyoung, are you okay?”

Wonwoo’s boyfriend had a flushed face and a sated expression as he spoke drunkenly. “Wonwoo-ya,” he said, slurring his words. “Remind me why I don’t drink?”

Wonwoo shook his head in disbelief, but there was anger underneath. “You don’t drink because you can’t drink.” He turned around to the rest of them, and his look of disapproval answered unspoken questions.

“We convinced him and Seokmin to take a shot,” Hansol said, scratching his head and looking embarrassed. “One thing lead to another.”

“More like one drink lead to another,” said Jihoon, the lone man there who seemed unintimidated by Wonwoo.

Wonwoo clenched his teeth for just a second as he made his way past Chan to sit by Soonyoung. He put his hand on Soonyoung’s forehead, and then again on Soonyoung’s cheek, which felt hot.

“Soonyoung, are you okay? You know you can’t drink,” Wonwoo said. Soonyoung’s skin was hot to his touch, not clammy, and Wonwoo took that as a good sign. “Alright, that’s enough. Let’s get you out of here. I’m not leaving you here.” It may have been socially acceptable for other people to be passed-out in public, but he didn’t intend to leave Soonyoung in such a state. He looped Soonyoung’s arm over his shoulder and was surprised as Chan did the same thing for Soonyoung’s other arm.

“He can’t drink. I know the type. He’ll be okay if he just sleeps it off,” said Chan. Wonwoo and Chan were standing, helping Soonyoung to his feet, while the other men still sat at the table. “Are you two going to take off? I can help you to the ground floor.”

“Yeah, I’ll help him back. I think I’m okay to drive,” Wonwoo started, “but we’ll decide to take a cab once I get to—”

“Leaving so soon?” Mingyu asked, still seated, and Wonwoo froze.

If he went home now, he wouldn’t get to keep talking to Mingyu.

“I need to,” Wonwoo said, making up his mind after a few seconds. “Soonyoung doesn’t do alcohol well. I want to make sure he’s okay tonight.”

“You don’t look too sober yourself,” said Chan, looking concerned. “It’ll be fine if we find another room here. Let’s put Seokmin and Soonyoung into a room and let them rest. You can keep joining us while they sleep off the alcohol. We’re at a hotel after all.”

“At the Nosan Hotel?” Hansol looked wary. “Do you know how long you have to wait before a vacancy opens up? And the price?”

Mingyu scoffed. “I got us this whole nightclub on a Saturday night, didn’t I? I can get us a room.”

It only took two texts and a phone call from Mingyu to settle the issue. Wonwoo and Chan began moving Soonyoung down several floors as Mingyu went down to grab the hotel room keys.

“He’s not heavy at all,” Chan said, thinking out loud as he helped Wonwoo with Soonyoung. “How long have you two been together?”

“Three years,” Wonwoo explained, looking over to see that Soonyoung’s eyes were now closed in stupor.

“How did you meet?” Chan continued asking, as they got into the elevator.

“Hwayang. Ministry of Justice headquarters. It was a classic ‘meet-cute’ situation,” reminisced Wonwoo with a smile. “I had just been transferred to the Hwayang Felony Unit after two years of prosecuting misdemeanors in Taeju. I had been assigned the office number 4-12. I went to cubicle 12 on the fourth floor and found myself in a shouting argument with the man who had already claimed the cubicle. Then I found out five minutes later that I was assigned to office four on the twelfth floor. When I went back to apologize, I bought that cute attorney a coffee. Now we’re here.”

Chan’s smile was warm. “You two are cute together, you know?”

Wonwoo’s look was puzzled as they made their way to room 1509, where Mingyu was standing.

“I barely talked with him all evening,” he answered.

Chan shook his head. “I saw the way he kept looking at you all night, like you were the only man in the room.”

But Wonwoo didn’t smile or answer as he made his way to the room. Chan gave Wonwoo and Soonyoung a wave and departed, as Mingyu took over the job of guiding Soonyoung into the room. Once they were in the room, Mingyu and Wonwoo laid the now-passed-out Soonyoung on the bed in the suite’s bedroom.

Only then did Wonwoo thank Mingyu as the two of them returned to the suite’s living room. “I need to thank you, you know. You’re right, I don’t want drive, just to be on the safe side, and it wouldn’t have been smart to have to take a taxi home and leave my car here. I’m going to reimburse you for the room. Don’t think for a second I won’t.”

Wonwoo sprawled out onto a couch in the suite’s second bedroom, as Mingyu stood by a dresser. It was still relatively early, perhaps just after midnight. And Wonwoo wasn’t feeling tired yet either.

“No need to thank me,” Mingyu said. Wonwoo could feel Mingyu’s gaze fix on him as the other man spoke. Mingyu’s dark eyes were filled with a curious eager light, and Wonwoo found it hard to look away.

“It’s still pretty early. What are your plans for tomorrow?” Wonwoo asked.

“Probably wake up late and have Sunday brunch in the hotel lobby. I have nothing in particular planned,” said Mingyu, still watching Wonwoo. “I’m a frequent visitor here, if you haven’t guessed, because my firm serves as outside counsel to the Nosan chaebol. I get free drinks and meals here. I could spend all weekend here and the hotel wouldn’t kick me out.”

Wonwoo bit his lip. If Mingyu didn’t have any plans … “Are you going to go back to meet them? The men at the club?”

“Who? The prosecutors’ clique? Not tonight. I’m done with them for the evening. I kick it with them every Friday and Saturday anyways,” Mingyu said. He crossed his arms in front of him, a move which drew Wonwoo’s gaze to Mingyu’s chest and arms. “You’ll probably fit in with them though. Sometimes they’re pretty catty about who they let join their little party, but I think they like you.”

“And what about you?” The question was out of Wonwoo’s mouth before he could think, and he was surprised at his own words. Soonyoung was in the next room over. “What do you think of me?”

“Hmm?” Mingyu arched an eyebrow, and Wonwoo felt a spike of lightning arch up his spine with that tiny motion, raptly listening to every word that Mingyu was speaking. “You’re guarded in tone, conservative in manner and dress, and slow to open up. Any other man might worry that you have something to hide. But I like you.”

“Is that so?” Wonwoo said, scouting closer on the couch to where Mingyu was standing. His throat suddenly felt tight, and his eyes were fixed on Mingyu’s. “Why?”

_Soonyoung was a room away._

“I like challenges.”

_Soonyoung will be out until noon tomorrow._

“So do I.”

He couldn’t explain what happened in that next second, but he could have described how it made him feel. It was as if some energy moved through him, and before he knew it, it was too late. Mingyu’s hands were clutching at his hair and Mingyu’s bottom lip was caught between his teeth and his hand was at the small of Mingyu’s back. The other man’s mouth opened, and Wonwoo’s tongue slipped through Mingyu’s teeth. Their bodies were grinding together, Wonwoo pushing Mingyu’s back against the wall as the taller man looped a leg around Wonwoo’s waist. It felt good at the moment—Wonwoo could never lie about that—but it lasted no more than that moment.

Wonwoo broke off the kiss a second later, already panting. Mingyu remained leaning against the wall, his tie coming undone and his shirt disheveled, but his eyes were still filled with lightning.

“We could do it right here,” he said, and Wonwoo heard a hint of pure animal need in Mingyu’s voice. “He doesn’t have to know.”

“He’s in the next room over,” Wonwoo snapped, through gritted teeth. “Soonyoung is my boyfriend.” He made sure to put the emphasis on the name.

“He’s passed out.”

“No. No.”

Wonwoo took a step back, looking the other man up and down. Mingyu was a fine specimen of a man, dark and tall and handsome, but he wasn’t Soonyoung and never would be.

“As you wish,” Mingyu said with a mockingly polite tone. He straightened his tie and smoothed his slightly-ruffled hair. “You know where to find me if you want me.” He pulled out a small piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and left it on the dresser.

Wonwoo couldn’t respond as Mingyu sauntered off, an arrogant smirk on the taller man’s face.

Then it was just him alone in the room, Soonyoung one room over.

Wonwoo picked up the piece of paper. It was a business card, with Mingyu’s work number printed on it and a cell phone number scribbled underneath. It would have been easy to throw it in the trash and to never look back. But as Wonwoo remembered everything he had just felt, he grew achingly aware of just how aroused he was feeling.

Biting his lip, Wonwoo slipped the business card inside his wallet.

-

“Jeon Wonwoo-ssi, you look exhausted. Please don’t tell me you were working on a case this weekend,” said Chief Hyun with slight disbelief. Wonwoo looked up. It was exactly 8 AM on a Monday morning, and his boss was already showing up at his office with a stack of files in her arms.

“I’m a bit tired,” Wonwoo conceded, as the memories of the weekend flooded back. Mingyu, Soonyoung. Soonyoung. Mingyu.

“Prosecutor Jeon, you should know what I tell all of my subordinates,” replied Chief Hyun. “Work-life balance. You’ll burn yourself out if you can’t keep your work life separate from your personal life.”

“I wasn’t working on a case,” said Wonwoo. Was it really that obvious on my face? He asked himself mentally. “I—I was thinking a lot this weekend.”

“A pity,” said Chief Hyun. She plopped her files on Wonwoo’s desk. “I’m not going to claim your weekends, Prosecutor Jeon, but I’m much more willing to claim your weekdays. I took my own glance at the files you looked at, including everything I could find about Winning Song LLC. I’ve compiled a list. Each person you see is a person of interest connected to Bok Junghyun. I want you to be investigate each person as if you’ll need to indict them.” She flipped open the front of a manila folder and presented it to Jeonghan and Wonwoo.

Wonwoo’s face went pale as he scanned over the photos and his eyes settled on the picture of a supremely handsome man with an attractive smile.

“What is this man’s connection to Bok Junghyun?” Wonwoo asked, his voice steady despite the feelings racing through him.

Chief Hyun reacted nonchalantly at the question.

“Attorney Kim Mingyu? Oh, he’s her lawyer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is set in the same universe as my story _husband_. However, no knowledge of that story is necessary to read this.
> 
> You can find me on Twitter @west_of_autumn! I welcome your comments, suggestions, and feedback.
> 
> (Chapter 1 edited February 22, 2018: Minor wording and italicization. More work on italicization may follow.)


	2. spectemur agendo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Mags (on Twitter @xiujihun) for helping me so much as my beta. This story wouldn't be here otherwise.

_spectemur agendo_

Latin — _l et us be judged by our acts_

\---

There were four other prosecutors in the room, but Wonwoo only recognized two of them.

On the left side of the conference table were Jeonghan and Chief Hyun, waiting for Wonwoo’s presentation to begin. On the right side were two of Chief Hyun’s superiors. The heavyset man closest to Wonwoo, Park Ho-in, was the chief of the Uiheung District Prosecutor’s Office. The gaunt woman farther away, Je Heesun, was a prosecutor from the central office in Hwayang. And he was supposed to explain to the four why they were exactly here.

“Go ahead then, Prosecutor Jeon,” began Chief Hyun, resting her chin on steepled fingers. “Begin by telling us about Bok Junghyun.”

“Is there anything I can tell you that you don’t already know, Chief Hyun?” Wonwoo asked with a nervous chuckle. He had a week to prepare this presentation, but suspected that these prosecutors already knew far more than he did.

Chief Hyun gave a short, humored laugh. “No, but give me your best effort.”

Wonwoo complied with the command, turning around to face the screen as he began the slideshow. He clicked a button to show the first image. The image of a woman, smiling at a campaign rally, flashed.

“This is Bok Junghyun, the Representative for Uiheung’s 3rd Congressional District. She has been elected to five consecutive terms, and by a margin of 41% most recently in 2021,” explained Wonwoo. “She formerly chaired the National Assembly’s Infrastructure Committee. Representative Bok is also the current Secretary-General of the National United Democratic Party, with management and administrative duties.”

The next slide flashed, showing pictures of the Representative’s early years in politics.

“Representative Bok was a student activist in her college days, but she is a financial consultant by profession. In 2001, she first ran for election in the 8th District,” Wonwoo explained, as Chief Hyun gave a nod. “Bok ultimately lost, but her margin of defeat, 10 percent, in the legendarily conservative Eighth District, raised her local profile. She was elected four years later as a member of the Democratic Party for the 3rd district. Her votes, like the rest of her party, have been reliably left-wing and progressive.”

Wonwoo clicked another button, showing several contemporary images of the woman. “Bok Junghyun went from an obscure backbencher to a national figure in 2011, through her opposition to President Yoon Hyunmi. She also made headlines by helping pass legislative bills supporting the minimum wage, renewable energy, and abortion rights.”

The next slide showed an image of Uiheung’s downtown, before the bypass project had begun.

“In 2014, Bok received a promotion to chair of the Infrastructure Committee. At that time, the Infrastructure Committee was debating the merits and costs of the National Highway 12 Commuter Bypass proposal.”

Another click. The face of a heavyweight, bearded man wearing sunglasses appeared. “This is Jeong Eunseok, then-head of Segye Geonsol’s infrastructure division. He was the driving force behind Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction’s joint bid for the project.”

A rapid succession of clicks followed, with Wonwoo flipping through the men and women who appeared next. “These were the other people who lobbied the Committee for the bid: Lee Sungmi, CEO of Segye Geonsol. Ha Jaekyun, general counsel of Segye Geonsol. Kim Seokhwan, Chairman of Nosan Construction. Seo Minhee, chief engineer of Nosan Construction.”

Wonwoo turned back to the audience. “In 2016, the Infrastructure Committee voted to award the contract to Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction’s joint venture. The contract was written into legislation when the National Assembly approved it as part of the annual budget. Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction were given twelve years and six billion dollars to complete the project.”

Another click. The next image was of a construction site in downtown Uiheung, with dozens of bulldozers, backhoes, and cranes around a large hole in the ground. “This is what the site looked like in 2017.”

He clicked another button. Another image, almost unchanged, appeared. “And this is what it looked like in 2023, with Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction having billed $3.5 billion to taxpayers for the project. Essentially nothing has happened in the past eight years as delay after delay has sprung up.”

So far, none of the prosecutors had asked any questions.

“Two weeks ago, the Prosecutor-General’s Office received a confidential tip that Jeong Eunseok bribed Bok Junghyun and several other politicians in order to win the bypass project in 2016. We then received evidence that has also drawn suspicion. Segye Geonsol has also transferred at least $1 million dollars to a shell company with no identifiable business purpose.”

“There is no direct evidence of bribery. However, the bypass project is behind schedule and over budget. Bribery scandals have sent two past mayors of Uiheung to jail,” explained Wonwoo. “This evidence is enough to start an investigation into Representative Bok Junghyun.”

“Is that it?” The Uiheung prosecutor, Chief Park, gave a skeptical look as he raised an eyebrow. “You want to investigate Representative Bok based on a tip? Do you know who the shell company belongs to?”

“No,” Wonwoo conceded. “That’s why we need to be allotted time and resources in order to investigate.”

“And without being overly committed to one narrative,” said the Hwayang prosecutor, Prosecutor Je, in a flat tone that spoke reluctance, “what exactly do you think happened?”

Wonwoo took a step back to look at the two skeptics. “We think that Jeong Eunseok, and possibly others, gave $1 million to Bok Junghyun so that she would lobby the Infrastructure Committee and vote in favor of the joint bid.”

“Did the opposition parties voice any objection to the bid?” Prosecutor Je asked.

Wonwoo nodded. “The committee member from the Communist Party opposed it as pork-barrel funding, but the conservatives were only slightly skeptical. They were won over by a report from Uiheung’s city manager, which approved of the joint bid, and ultimately voted in favor. The report may also have been procured through bribery.”

“What audits have been conducted into the project?” Chief Park asked. “It’s been, what, eight years? Surely somebody has looked into the finances.”

“The Department of Transportation has audited the project twice, and found the project to be riddled with waste and errors. But they were never given an inside look at Segye Geonsol’s books. They only looked at the overall costs, without checking spending line-by-line,” explained Wonwoo, pressing the point. “This is our chance to take a closer look.”

“Suppose we do give you permission to open the investigation,” said Park again. “Why should we hand this project to _you?_ There are other prosecutors in the city. You look rather young.” The prosecutor cast a condescending gaze at Wonwoo’s direction.

“I haven’t investigated a politician before, but I have experience investigating white-collar crimes and with trial,” Wonwoo said, sticking out his chest slightly. “I investigated a kickbacks scheme between doctors and pharmaceutical companies, and I’ve taken ten felony cases to trials with eight wins.”

“That’s still two losses,” pointed out Je, letting that criticism linger in the air before speaking again. “How do you propose to investigate the Representative?”

“We’ll try a two-pronged approach,” explained Wonwoo, feeling pride in the methodical approach he had constructed. “First, I will try to trace the money from the slush fund back to the Representative. Second, I will try to build on the testimony of the tipster. I suspect that our investigation into Segye Geonsol will produce more evidence of wrongdoing at the peripheries: contractors falsifying expenses or billing hours. We will then put pressure on those new suspects to tell us about any wrongdoing that they know about the Representative or her associates. And if either approach corroborates our suspicion,  we will have enough information to formally accuse the Representative of wrongdoing.”

“It’ll just be you?” Park asked.

“I will be in charge, assisted by Prosecutor Yoon, in specifically prosecuting the Representative. However, we will enlist other police officers and prosecutors to investigate the larger bypass project. We will be using their assistance in building our own case,” said Wonwoo, smoothly reciting rehearsed lines. “We will be working as a team.”

The male prosecutor turned to his female counterpoint. “It could work, Prosecutor Je,” he said begrudgingly.

“It’s somewhere between a witch-hunt and a wild goose chase,” came the response. “Representative Bok is the type of person who could get everybody in this room fired if this investigation ends badly.”

Wonwoo watched, warily, as the two senior prosecutors continued to converse in whispers between each other. Chief Hyun was silent throughout the entire time, looking deep in thought, while Jeonghan gave Wonwoo only sympathetic glances. Neither looked enthusiastic.

Finally, the whispering stopped, as the two senior prosecutors turned to look at Wonwoo.

“Your request for an investigation is approved. You will be allotted the funding you requested, and you will receive the assistance of other members of both the Prosecutor-General’s Office and the Ministry of Justice,” explained Park, rising up to stand first. “But there will be a few conditions.”

Je continued the explanation. “Chief Hyun will need to check in with _her_ superiors. Not me in this case, but to District Chief Park right here. There will be a metaphorical wall between the Uiheung and Hwayang offices.

She looked around to make sure her comments were heard by Jeonghan and Chief Hyun as well. “You will have permission to investigate Representative Bok, her associates, and the bypass project only. If it becomes clear that the bribery extends beyond the bypass project, the case will be transferred to the Hwayang office. Are we clear?”

Wonwoo nodded. “Absolutely, ma’am.”

“You should be scared,” said District Chief Park, standing up. “You don’t know what type of person you’re hunting.”

That wasn’t a thing that a prosecutor was supposed to say. As such, Wonwoo did not respond as District Chief Park and Prosecutor Je left. Now that the nervousness of the presentation had worn away, Wonwoo realized that he only held resolve underneath.

The investigation could begin in earnest.

 

\---

 

“Thank you for coming again,” Wonwoo said, staring coolly at the suspect. Jang Shiho, the Segye Geonsol manager, looked even more pale and sickly than before. The attorney, Ahn Kyungjae, had a more optimistic look, sitting next to his client. There were only three people in the interrogation room, as Jeonghan would watch Wonwoo from behind the one-way glass mirror.

“My client is glad to help,” explained Attorney Ahn in a gravelly voice. “He’ll take any chance he can to set the record straight and do the right thing. That includes coming clean fully.”

Wonwoo pointed down to a piece of paper on the table before him. He shifted in his chair after a pause, trying to suss out any sign of dishonesty but not finding anything obvious. “The plea deal is right here, but the Prosecutor-General’s Office needs more confirmation. What you gave us was barely enough to start an investigation. We’ll need more information before we can get anywhere.”

“Go ahead,” said the Segye Geonsol manager. “Ask away. I’ve refreshed my memories anyways. I have more to tell.”

“First,” asked Wonwoo. “This meeting with Jeong Eunseok. What was the date and time?”

“It was at the company party in the week after the contract was awarded. The bid was granted on February 24, 2016, so the party must have been on February 26, 2016. The party was held at the Segye Grand Palace Hotel in Uiheung. It was in a room attached to the restaurant, not a hotel room.” explained Jang Shiho. “I left after midnight, but I am fairly sure Jeong made his comment earlier in the evening, around ten.”

“Besides Jeong Eunseok and Baek Heeyoon, who were the other people at the party?” Wonwoo asked.

“I know the CEO, COO, and CFO were there at the beginning but left early. And I know the four division leaders were present the whole time: Jeong Eunseok, head of infrastructure, as well the heads of the nuclear, mining, and oil divisions.The general counsel was also there,” said Jang, listing off the divisions on his fingers.

“Had you been drinking at the time?” Wonwoo said, not bothering to take notes. Jeonghan was supposed to be taking care of that.

“We were all drinking. Jeong Eunseok, at the time he was speaking, was drunk and I was sober,” said Jang. “Later I drank more but I maintained sobriety throughout the evening.”

“Walk me through the ten minutes before and after Jeong’s remark,” commanded Wonwoo.

Jang Shiho gave a shrug. “Ten minutes before? I was talking to Baek Heeyoon. Both of us were in infrastructure and we were having a discussion of how we were going to complete the project successfully. She remarked that it would be almost impossible on a six-billion dollar budget. She was right, you know. The Kyetaek airport went 20% over budget and the Taeju waste treatment plant was 30% over budget. So we were discussing cheap contractors and the like, in case the project would cost more than we thought. Those last words caught Jeong’s attention.”

“Explain,” continued Wonwoo. “What words?”

“Something off-hand. I remarked to my boss ‘This tunnel will cost too much,’ or something like that. And Jeong staggered over to where Baek and I were, smelling like he had spilled gin all over himself, and said ‘At this rate, it’s going to cost more money to bribe politicians than to build roads.’” Jang Shiho explained. “My boss had no idea what he was talking about, so he said to her, not me, that the project required bribing three people. He listed them in such a nonchalant manner that it should have surprised me. The names were Kim Seungjae, Seo Dongjoon, and Bok Junghyun.”

“Nobody was around you when he said the remark?” Wonwoo asked.

“Not right next to us, but the general counsel was nearby. As soon as Jeong listed the names, he drunkenly turned around and made his way to that lawyer. He was making comments about how grateful he was that Segye Geonsol had such a great legal division, but he said nothing more to us. He literally just dropped the names and kept talking,” said Jang, with a shrug. “And that was all I heard.”

“How did Baek Heeyoon react?” Wonwoo said, after making a mental note to himself that this woman was proving to be critical. He knew better than to rely solely on the testimony and documents of one witness, especially when that witness was a drug user seeking immunity from prosecution.

“She looked rather surprised. She said to me that she would need to report this to the chief compliance officer personally, but that she wouldn’t let it distract her from the successful completion of the project,” explained Jang Shiho.

“Who was Segye Geonsol’s compliance officer at the time? Did Baek Heeyoon ever report this bribery?” Wonwoo asked warily.

Jang Shiho gave the question a moment of thought, and nodded. “Yes. The next Monday, I heard her on the phone with Yang Gapsung, the compliance officer.”

It was Wonwoo’s turn to change the conversation. “The records that you gave us. How did you manage to get confidential proprietary documents out of Segye Geonsol?” He opened up a manila folder that he had on the table, showing what Jang Shiho had brought.

Jang Shiho smirked. “It feels good to be a whistleblower, right? I had access to files in the Uiheung office. Corporate security forbids us from bringing in our own phones into the office and they monitor us on the company computers. They even monitor the photocopiers in each office. But what they _don’t_ do is check our physical papers going in and out. So I would put the originals in my briefcase, walk out to the office supply store across the street, make my photocopies there, and return the originals at the end of the workday. If corporate ever checked, they would see the originals were in order, and that I had never accessed any of the photocopiers. They had no idea.”

Wonwoo frowned. “I’m not sure if that plan was clever or stupid.”

“Does it matter?” Jang Shiho shrugged, an arrogant smirk on his sallow face. “You have the documents.”

“And now you need to explain,” Wonwoo said pointedly.

“I was in charge of subcontracting during the bypass project, which meant I called and negotiated with subcontractors for the project for the best price. After each was approved by Jeong Eunseok, I put it on this spreadsheet and would mail the checks,” said the manager, now pointing to the file. “On this sheet, though, I noticed that I was told to pay out an extra million dollars that I hadn’t approved to this Winning Song corporation. But I mailed the check anyways. Corporate had approved it.”

“Who?” Wonwoo inquired. “I think you’re leaving something out. Who approved it? Was it Baek Heeyoon? Jeong Eunseok?”

“I don’t remember,” admitted Jang Shiho. “But this was edited into my original request. I have no knowledge of this Winning Song company and it was not my idea to pay out the million dollars.”

“You don’t know if Kim Seungjae, Seo Dongjoon, or Bok Junghyun are connected to Winning Song?” Wonwoo asked, still trying to dig deeper.

“No clue. I would think that they’re behind this shell company, but I have no proof.”

“Do you know anything else about Segye Geonsol’s relationship to these three? Anything you want us to know? Legal or illegal campaign contributions? Nepotistic hiring practices?”

“Nothing at this time,” said Jang Shiho. “I could ask around at work, but that would draw attention.”

“No, don’t do that,” interjected Wonwoo. “Nothing to give anybody any indication you have something to tell. As far as anybody in Segye Geonsol knows, you’re here to work out that drug-possession charge. Now, do you recall seeing anybody on this chart?”

Wonwoo took out the page that he had been given from Chief Hyun. There was a panel of six faces shown: Representative Bok’s chief-of-staff, her husband, her daughter, her legislative director, her finance manager, and in the lower right corner, her lawyer Kim Mingyu.

Jang Shiho stared at the picture for a few seconds. “Oh, I know some of these people.” He pointed a finger at the bottom left corner. “I recognize this woman. I see her in the government affairs department meeting with corporate. If she’s an associate of the Representative, she must be a liaison between us and Bok Junghyun.”

“Don’t you think you should have told us?” Wonwoo said, now beginning to feel skeptical. “She _is_ one of Bok’s associates.”

The suspect gave an annoyed glare. “I didn’t remember her until you showed me these photos. The same way I didn’t remember this man until you told me.” He pointed to the lower right.

It was Mingyu’s photo. Wonwoo felt his pulse accelerate. _Mingyu! He knows Mingyu_.

“What did this man do?” Wonwoo asked, trying to ensure his voice was calm. He managed to refrain from wincing, at the very least.

“I have no idea,” replied Jang. “But I saw him walk into Jeong Eunseok’s office before. Not around the time of the contract. More recent than that. But I can’t give you a specific time.”

“To do what?” Wonwoo asked, making sure his eyes didn’t flicker from Jang Shiho’s face.

“I have no idea. All I know is that he met with Division Leader Jeong,” and then the suspect looked up in thought. “I think I’ve seen him talk to Jeong even after Jeong was promoted to CEO two years ago. But I don’t know his name, I’ve never heard him speak, and I know nothing else about him.”

“Is that it?” This news was ending almost as soon as it began. The man knew almost nothing about Mingyu.

“I don’t recognize any other faces,” said Jang Shiho, who then shrugged. “I’m sorry. I can’t help you.”

“Is there anything more you need to tell us?” Wonwoo said, now preparing to finish up the interview.

“Not at this time,” Jang Shiho said. “I’m tired anyways. It’s 5:30 in the evening on a Friday. I’m glad and surprised that you’re working this hard, but I want to go home at some point.”

“But my client will always be happy to tell more, if you need it at all,” interjected Attorney Ahn, after being silent this whole time. “He’s not just willing to talk to you. He’s willing to be deposed or to testify under oath.”

“Thank you again,” said Wonwoo, now looking down. “We _will_ be talking more.”

“My pleasure,” said Jang Shiho sarcastically, and then he and his attorney departed.

Wonwoo let out a sigh as soon the door closed, but the act didn’t relieve any tension in him.

 _He recognizes Mingyu_ , thought Wonwoo, looking at Mingyu’s picture in the file. And if Jang Shiho was telling the truth, Mingyu had met with Jeong Eunseok. _The man who claimed to give a bribe has met with the lawyer of the woman who supposedly received the bribe_.  _  
_

Wonwoo stifled a yawn. He _would_ need to follow through on the investigation, but the suspect was correct. It was late on a Friday. The weekend, and Soonyoung, was now calling.

 

\---

 

Perhaps death’s sweet embrace would be preferable to this.

Wonwoo wiped the sweat off from his brow. His throat was parched, and his legs were burning and there was a cramp in his lower gut. This was the most difficult thing he had done at least in a year, maybe even a few years. But Soonyoung had asked him to make this commitment, and he intended to follow through on it.

He jumped.

And the ball still sailed past his outstretched hand.

“Damn it, Wonwoo!” Came Soonyoung’s scream from across the court.

“Oh! Score! Boo-ya!” Came the shout from the man who had just scored on Wonwoo. “Public Defenders 80, Ministry of Justice 56!”

“Geez, thanks,” said Jihoon, backing up next to Wonwoo as he warily watched as the opposing team’s star player intercepted the basketball and began dribbling down the court. Without a word between them, Wonwoo and Jihoon dashed for opposite ends of the court.

“Like you were tall enough to block that shot!” Wonwoo shouted.

“That’s why _you’re_ the center,” retorted Jihoon. “Use those broad-ass shoulders of yours.”

Wonwoo only gave a displeased grunt as he positioned himself between two players from the opposite team. But the man in front of him, who had introduced himself as Choi Seungcheol from the public defender’s office, feinted left and right too quickly for Wonwoo to react. He tried to dive to get between the other lawyer and the basketball hoop, to no avail. Seungcheol ducked underneath Wonwoo’s arm and made yet another lay-up behind Wonwoo’s back.

“Damn it! Okay, that’s it, do you need some time off the court?” Soonyoung looked annoyed at the score, panting as he stared at Wonwoo from the basketball hoop.

Wonwoo scowled, more at the gloating public defender across from him than at Soonyoung. “No,” he said through slightly gritted teeth. “Let me just deal with him one time, and then I can switch out.”

Soonyoung sighed, but otherwise agreed.

The referee blew a whistle again. Hansol now had possession of the ball, but quickly found two defenders in his way as he tried to pass the ball to Chan. Wonwoo watched as Hansol tried to pass the ball to Jihoon instead, only for superstar point guard Choi Seungcheol to magically appear on the court in front of him. In desperation, Hansol made a wild pass across their end of the court, throwing the ball with abandon. Wonwoo seized the chance instead, running over just in time to grab the ball. He turned on his heels, ignoring his sore body, and made a lay-up.

The ball sailed haphazardly into the air, hit the hoop, and bounced off the backboard.

“Time!” Yelled a referee from the sidelines.

And with that Wonwoo, dizzy from exhaustion, sat down on the blacktop, and then sprawled on his back.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah!” Seungcheol was yelling somewhere off to Wonwoo’s side, as the public defenders celebrated their win.

“Oh my God,” Wonwoo groaned with disbelief.

“Twenty-six points,” said Soonyoung, now standing over Wonwoo with a remarkably sated look. “We got crushed.”

“This isn’t the type of court that I went to law school for,” said Wonwoo, staring at the ceiling of the gymnasium. He wanted to close his eyes and go to sleep for a long time.

“I shouldn’t call that a good game,” Soonyoung said, looking remarkably elegant as he sweat off his brow.

“But you do?” Wonwoo answered, admiring Soonyoung’s appearance.

Soonyoung nodded. “A chance to meet new people and play basketball with my boyfriend? That makes it a good game. I’m glad that Chan and Hansol told me about this.”

Wonwoo closed his eyes again and nodded. “I didn’t move to Uiheung thinking that I’d be doing sports again. Now let me just rest here.”

Soonyoung gave a grin. “I wish I could let you rest here, Nonu-ya, but there’s a game that’s about to go on here. Hankwang Law Firm against Hwang and Choo. And have you seen how tall are the players on those teams? They’ll trample you and I’ll have to clean the mess off the court.”

_Hankwang Law Firm._

Wonwoo opened one sleepy eye.

“Are they already here?” Wonwoo said.

“The Hankwang team might be in the locker rooms. Let’s get changed first. And then we can get dinner,” Soonyoung said.

Wonwoo groaned but complied. If he hadn’t been reminded, he might have forgotten about his groaning stomach in the excitement of basketball. Soonyoung offered a hand up, which he took. Already, Jihoon, Chan, and Hansol were already leaving to the court, as the public defender Seungcheol went over to join those three.

“I’m going to need a lot of dinner,” said Wonwoo with a groan. He wasn’t hurt, but for all the screaming from his muscles, he might as well have been.

“I’ll treat you this time,” answered Soonyoung, as they made their way to the locker rooms.

The game had been held at Injeongdang University’s sports center, as it was too cold in the wintry weather to play outside. Wonwoo looked forward to a nice hot shower and then whatever they would eat next. As long as nothing complicated things.

The locker room looked empty as the basketball players entered. The Ministry of Justice team made their way in and split up from there. Wonwoo paid only brief attention as Jihoon and Seungcheol _still_ continued to converse. Instead, he and Soonyoung made their way to their shared locker to change.

Soonyoung opened it while Wonwoo stripped, sitting on the bench and kicking off his shoes and grabbing his socks. Wonwoo pulled his jersey up over his head to toss it into the locker.

“I’m going to need a new jersey,” Wonwoo said, holding the sweat-drenched fabric with just his thumb and an index finger.

“You’re violating some biohazard regulations just holding that,” said Soonyoung with a laugh, though his own clothes were equally drenched. The two of them began to strip, with Wonwoo quickly removing his shorts and stuffing them into their gym bag. He was wearing only his undershirt and underwear, both clinging uncomfortably to his skin. He slipped on a pair of sandals and grabbed a bottle of body wash to take with him when he showered.

“I’ll shower first,” said Wonwoo, as Soonyoung organized their locker. He made his way to the shower room, and when he entered, there was a sight that forced to pause the moment he entered.

There was only one man there, standing completely unclothed under a stream of steaming water. Wonwoo could see every line in the muscles of the man’s back and legs, as the man was washing his face and running his hands through his hair.

Wonwoo had to remind himself to breath, and he did.

And then the man turned around.

It was Mingyu.

Of all the law firms, it _had_ to be Hankwang Law Firm today. And of all the firm’s lawyers, it _had_ to be Mingyu right there, wearing nothing right in front of him. Wonwoo took a step back, almost as a reflex, the memory of that night with Mingyu returning. The way they had kissed. The need in Mingyu’s voice. The pure desire that Mingyu had shown in him.

Wonwoo couldn’t tell fortune from misfortune at this moment.

“Attorney Jeon.”

The words now sounded so formal coming from Mingyu’s mouth, especially in his elegant Hwayang dialect, and shook Wonwoo out of his daze. Mingyu turned the knob of the showerhead behind him and the stream of water died to a trickle. There was now nothing obscuring Wonwoo’s sight. It took all of Wonwoo’s willpower not to bring his eyes up and down Mingyu’s body. All he could do right now was look Mingyu in the eye.

When he answered, Wonwoo should have reciprocated the formality. He should have curtly answered ‘Attorney Kim’ and waited for the other man to leave the shower.

“Mingyu.”

As soon as the word left Wonwoo’s mouth, he hated himself for the hope that his voice carried.

But something in Wonwoo’s word brought a sense of familiarity back to Mingyu’s voice. “Wonwoo, of course,” said the man, now relaxing that deep, baritone voice that Wonwoo wanted to hear again. Mingyu grabbed his nearby white towel and took a second to dry his face and hair, burying his face into the fabric.

It was that second that allowed Wonwoo a chance to memorize the sight of Mingyu’s body, from the taut muscles of his shoulders and chest down to the coarse hair of the man’s strong legs. But the moment ended as soon as it began, as Mingyu wrapped the towel around his waist and resumed the conversation.

“I wasn’t sure I would see you here,” said Mingyu with nonchalance. “I saw the schedule and I saw there would be a team from the Ministry of Justice, but I didn’t know _you_ would be coming here.”

He leaned against the shower wall now, propping his elbow against the tile as he fixed his gaze on Wonwoo.

“I didn’t know you would be here at all,” Wonwoo said, trying to find the right balance between sounding courteous and sounding infatuated. “Maybe you should have joined our game. The public defenders kicked our asses up and down the court.”

“With Choi Seungcheol playing a versatile offense and defense? I know the experience. The last time I faced him, our team lost by almost twenty points,” Mingyu nodded. “If you told me two months ago that the public defenders would be at the top of the lawyers’ basketball league, I would have laughed at you.”

“It’s just supposed to be for fun, right?” Wonwoo asked.

“Oh no, I take this dead seriously. I have to be in prime condition for the game,” Mingyu said, words rolling off his tongue. His eyes darted out in the direction of the basketball court. “I probably should be warming up out there.”

“Don’t let me keep you here then,” Wonwoo said, stepping forward and breaking eye contact for a brief second. It would be good for him, maybe the both of them, if Mingyu just walked out now.

“No, the Hwang and Choo team is usually late,” Mingyu said, looking back at Wonwoo and giving a disarming wave of his hand. “I can stay. You though. Maybe you have something to do tonight?”

Wonwoo held his tongue instead of saying that he had dinner with Soonyoung planned. There were many honest ways to answer the question.

“I’m not busy,” Wonwoo answered, deflecting instead of giving an affirmative answer.

“Okay, then don’t mind me,” Mingyu said, making his way to the bench by the showers. He turned his back to Wonwoo again, removing the towel from his waist. Mingyu dressed himself, presenting Wonwoo with a full view of his back side while putting on a black jockstrap, basketball shorts and a jersey. If Mingyu noticed Wonwoo’s stares, he gave no indication he did so. The man’s figure looked just as impressive and confident wearing the uniform as when he wasn’t wearing it.

“I have a game to play. Maybe I’ll see you around?” Mingyu said, turning back to Wonwoo, with a questioning inflection in his tone. He turned to wave goodbye.

Wonwoo should have let Mingyu walk away. It would have been easy. _He’s Bok Junghyun’s lawyer. My informant knows who he is. I have a boyfriend_. All of the thoughts went through his head. Nevertheless, Wonwoo chose to speak instead.

“Wait,” Wonwoo said, making sure his voice wasn’t too loud. _Soonyoung is in this room._

“Hmmm?” Mingyu raised an eye as he looked back.

“I’ll call you,” Wonwoo said, improvising and thinking of something to say other than ‘Let me know you more.’ _Soonyoung was in the room._  “Our team needs practice, you know. We’re not working well as a team. I’ll see if I can arrange a friendly match between our teams. The Ministry of Justice team versus Hankwang. I’ll work something out.”

The explanation sounded true enough that Wonwoo almost believed himself.

Mingyu reciprocated with a toothy smile. “Then just call me, Wonwoo. You have my number.” He winked, and then he left.

As soon as Mingyu stepped out, Wonwoo was suddenly aware of the aching muscles of his body, his sore joints, his parched throat, the sweat now dried on his body, and his pounding heart. He forced himself to take a seat, and then he just asked himself what he had said to Mingyu.

The next game had already started by the time he finally got up and showered.

Soonyoung didn’t even notice the delay that night, acting as if nothing had happened. And that filled Wonwoo with relief and anticipation. He could talk with Mingyu again. His boyfriend didn’t know anything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Twitter @west_of_autumn. I welcome your comments, feedback, and suggestions!


	3. crescit eundo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to Mags for helping me so much as my beta. This story wouldn't be here otherwise.

_crescit eundo_

Latin — _it grows as it goes_

\---

“Glad to meet you,” Wonwoo said, hoping that his words didn’t betray his frustration. The investigation had yet to proceed at a substantive pace, despite all of Wonwoo’s efforts.

His problem today dealt with the heavyset, burly politician seated in front of them. Wonwoo sat directly in front of the man, as the lead prosecutor in the case, while Jeonghan was seated off to the side, scrolling on a tablet computer as the interview went on.

“I’m glad you had the time to come down to the prosecutor's’ office and have an interview with us,” Wonwoo continued, as the politician gave an earnest nod.

“Nah, I should be the one thanking you,” came the nonchalant, brusque response, spoken in the guttural Gihong dialect. “Normally I’m busy with voter affairs and today I had a meeting, but when you said _Segye Geonsol_ I knew I had to make time for you. Besides, the meeting I blew off was with Kwak Taecheol and Park Hoonki, and those decrepit halfwits can go fuck themselves.”

“Representative Yong Woo-il,” said Wonwoo, trying not to wince at the uncouth language as he addressed a very senior politician. “You were on the Infrastructure Committee in 2016 when the National Highway 12 Commuter Bypass was approved. And do you have something you particularly want to tell us?”

The Representative leaned back, spreading his hands in an explanatory gesture. “Not any wrongdoing to report per se, otherwise I would have gone to the prosecutors myself. But the circumstances were fishy, and I’m glad somebody’s looking into the issue.”

“Could you explain?” Wonwoo asked. “We didn’t meant to call you out of a meeting if we weren’t concerned about the issue.”

“I’ll gladly let you know,” said the Representative, sticking out his chest. “In 2016, I was a member of the Infrastructure Committee, as a member of the opposition.”

“As the only member from the Communist Party,” said Wonwoo. “We’ve done our research.”

“Yes,” confirmed Representative Yong. “The Infrastructure Committee is one of the larger committees, with twenty-one folks. The Democrats held a majority of the committee, at eleven or twelve. But the Committee was absolutely dominated by the will of Bok Junghyun, the committee head.”

“How so? Was she even the most senior member sitting on the Committee?”

“She wasn’t the longest-serving member, but she was already the Deputy Secretary-General of her party at the time, and you didn’t need to be a genius to predict that she was going to continue to rise through the ranks. Half of the Democrats on the Committee were trying to get on her good side, and the other half were scared of her. You didn’t want to make her mad—she could really fuck you up.”

“What about members of the opposition?” Wonwoo asked.

“There were a few people who have clashed with Representative Bok. I, for one, have always been a critic of the Democrats’ public spending plan. I’m a former construction worker myself, and I know that public works are essential for unionized labor, but I’ve always been suspicious when Democrats pair public projects with chaebol cooperation,” said Representative Yong. “Too bad though. Nobody shared my opinions.”

“And you think the same about the chaebol here?” Wonwoo asked. He did not bother asking about the obvious fact that the Communist Party was opposed to the role of chaebol in politics.

“Exactly,” said Representative Yong with a huff. “Segye Geonsol is all smoke-and-mirrors with their proposals, and Nosan Construction is not a paradigm of efficiency. Just look at the bypass project now! Over-budget but behind-schedule. Whether it’s the Democratic Party or the Liberal Party makes no difference. Both major parties are too eager to spend money to cover this country in concrete, regardless of whether the project is any good or not.”

Wonwoo nodded. This was exactly the response he had been expecting. If he allowed Representative Yong to complain about the chaebol he would be here all day. It was time to steer the conversation back to the law.

“How did the bypass project first come to the Committee’s attention?”

“I don’t really know,” said Representative Yong with a shrug. “By the time it reached the full committee, it was already in the voting stage. Representative Bok brought the bid by Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction before the committee and said that the six-billion dollar bid had been recommended by the Ministry of Transportation.”

“It never was discussed in any subcommittee?” Wonwoo asked. “This is supposed to be a matter for the roads and highways subcommittee.”

“Nope,” said the Representative, dramatically making an X with his arms. “I would know. I sat in that subcommittee and we never discussed a word about a _six-billion_ dollar project. Representative Bok presented the project to the full committee, gave her recommendation, and expected no opposition in the first vote.”

“Was there opposition? Besides from you, of course,” said Wonwoo.

“A tiny bit. The bidding for the bypass project wasn’t done by open tender, and that always raises suspicions. I remember Shim Deoktaek and Jang Hakjeong both expressed some surprise and they both asked about whether the city of Uiheung was in favor of the bid,” explained Representative Yong.

“And Representative Bok already had an answer, right?” Wonwoo asked, thinking ahead.

“She did. She unveiled a report from Uiheung’s city manager saying that the bid was reasonable in price and realistic in outlook. Both Representatives Shim and Jang thought this was good enough for them.”

“These reports,” asked Wonwoo cautiously, “from the Ministry of Transport and from the Uiheung city manager. Neither of them was solicited by the Committee?”

“No.”

“And the Committee did not do any independent research into the issue?”

“No, and during Bok’s chairmanship, the Committee rarely did,” said Representative Yong. “I can’t say there weren’t grumblings, mainly from Shim and Jang who wanted to hire outside experts, but we had to content ourselves. Us opposition members rationalized that the professional bureaucrats at the various ministries could be expected to do their jobs properly.”

“And was this the meeting where Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction were awarded the contract?”

“No, the next meeting. The first meeting of the full committee was in May of 2016, where the committee voted to express approval. Segye Geonsol and Nosan Construction were then given two weeks to make any necessary revisions to their bid. In June of 2016 was when the Committee formally voted to approve the bypass project. It passed by a vote of twenty to one. I was the lone dissenter, of course.”

“And you’ve said there was nothing illegal that you could tell in the voting procedure,” Wonwoo noted. “Nothing you’ve described sounds illegal. The law doesn’t always require an open tender. I’ve checked.”

“It’s not illegal, right,” said Representative Yong. “But Bok’s tenure at the Infrastructure Committee was two years of shady procedure. Projects were passed with just the bare minimum of scrutiny. And we didn’t just vote on tunnels. We voted on roads, hospitals, libraries, prisons, bridges, and subways. The other Democrats on the Committee were too junior to stand up to a political heavyweight like Bok. And this was in 2016, so the conservatives in the Liberal Party were too busy attacking President Seo to focus on a tunnel in Uiheung.”

Wonwoo pursed his lips for just a second. He could keep his cards close to his chest, or he could divulge a tiny hint of information to see if the politician before him would spill more information as a result. It was still very early in the investigation. If Representative Yong leaked information, Bok Junghyun could end this investigation at this preliminary stage.

But he needed more information.

“Do you think there was anything illegal in the bid for the bypass project?” Wonwoo asked, scanning Representative Yong’s face for any reaction.

“Nothing I can say for sure,” said Representative Yong after a reluctant pause. “I can only report on the unethical.”

Wonwoo sighed. This interview had produced no evidence of any illegal wrongdoing. There was plenty of ammunition for him to investigate, but no smoking gun that would allow him to seek an arrest warrant. Unless the evidence was right in front of him.

“Actually, tell me a little bit more about the reports,” said Wonwoo, after a bit more thought. “Were they all submitted to the Committee as public records?”

“No, not quite. The Committee has the option of entering its research into the public record, but not this time,” said the Representative.

“And did these bureaucrats, either from the Ministry of Transport or Uiheung’s municipal administration, ever testify in front of the Committee itself? Under oath?” Wonwoo asked, now formulating a plan in his mind.

“Yes, they all did. It was under oath, though not in public,” replied Representative Yong.

“And did Representative Bok tend to use the same people to speak before the Committee in public?” Wonwoo pressed on.

“Now that you mention it, I did see several faces pop up over and over,” said Representative Yong with a nod.

“And these people were?”

“The Ministry of Transport had an expert who seemed to always testify in support of Bok’s newest pet project. Koh Jungeol was his name. He was always quick to reassure us that the Ministry of Transport had inspected every single issue and that all bids were in compliance with ethical disclosures.”

“And from Uiheung?”

“He wasn’t as optimistic as Koh, but he did testify for the bypass project. Bok also relied on a traffic engineer named Chae Gichang from the Uiheung City Manager’s Office,” said Representative Yong. “Maybe you should talk with them.”

Every answer seemed to spawn another question, Wonwoo realized. The more people he interviewed, the more names he encountered, and the more names he encountered, the more people he would need to interview.

“Thank you very much then, Representative Yong,” said Wonwoo, getting up to bow deeply. Besides him, Jeonghan reciprocated the same motion. “We’ll continue to be in contact. The bypass project has raised serious questions about the Infrastructure Committee’s conduct.”

“I’m just glad I’m not on the Infrastructure Committee any longer,” said Representative Yong. “I made way too much fuss there, so I was booted out to the Agriculture Committee instead. That’s political exile.”

“It’s the Committee’s loss,” said Wonwoo, preparing to end the conversation.

“It’s Bok’s win,” said Representative Yong warily. “She doesn’t have as much leverage over me—the voters from Gamseok elect me, and nobody else—but you should be wary of her. You don’t know where her people are.”

But Wonwoo remembered. _Mingyu and all of Bok’s staff members, showing up so soon in his investigation._ “It wouldn’t be surprising,” Wonwoo admitted. “I’ve already been surprised where her people have shown up.” And then he and Jeonghan left.

Jeonghan was fuming on their way back from the conference room to the office, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. Wonwoo admitted that the expression was justified. The interview with Representative Yong had been less than productive.

“We have nothing right now,” said Jeonghan, looking frustrated as they entered the empty staff break room. He grabbed his lunch, a plastic container full of salad, from the refrigerator while Wonwoo only prepared himself another cup of lukewarm coffee. It was his third cup of the day, and it wasn’t even noon.

“We’ve only interviewed two people. And the investigation is still early. We can’t be frustrated now.” said Wonwoo, after taking a sip. The coffee was sludge on his tongue, but the caffeine was a relief. His nights, once peaceful in the company of Soonyoung, had been increasingly restless, and it wasn’t due to the extra hours he was spending in the office. It was like university all over again, working through the night for whatever work he had.

“We have hearsay from Jang Shiho, who claims he heard somebody else claim to bribe a third person. We have suspicious financial transactions that we haven’t been able to trace. And we have Representative Yong saying he thought something was fishy,” said Jeonghan. “What are we going to do? How are we going to charge anybody?”

“We can do something. I want you to take look at those experts,” Wonwoo ordered Jeonghan. “See if they’ve vouched for those other projects that have similarly gone over-budget and behind-schedule. I want you to contact the police to put those individuals under surveillance. If the police can report anything suspicious, then we’ll be able to strengthen our case.”

“On Koh Jungeol and Chae Gichang?” Jeonghan said, trying to be certain.

“Yes, both,” said Wonwoo. He cleared his throat. “There’s no way Segye Geonsol is going to spend $1 million bribing politicians, and only politicians. I want to see if Segye Geonsol has also bribed bureaucrats to provide extra cover for their bribery scheme.”

“You want to investigate members of the National Assembly as well as the bureaucracy? Wouldn’t that expand the investigation even farther? Aren’t we limited to the bypass project?” Jeonghan said, warily.

“We are,” Wonwoo said, walking briskly as the two of them headed back to their office. “We’re not investigating any other cases of bribery. Just making sure whether these two experts, Koh and Chae, were also bribed as part of the bypass scheme.”

“And what do we do in the meantime?”

“We keep looking at other suspects. We interview people without attracting Bok’s attention. If we can clear her, then we will,” Wonwoo said confidently. By now, the two of them were back at their offices. It was almost time for lunch, and Wonwoo had a lunch date scheduled with Soonyoung.

“How do you manage to be so optimistic?” Jeonghan said, almost with a sigh. “I’ve done three other anti-corruption investigations, and those cases always were dropped. The evidence was always too thin.”

Wonwoo took a look at Jeonghan. “The truth always comes out, Prosecutor Yoon.”

“You really believe that?” Jeonghan gave a scowl. “This is Uiheung. The politicians and chaebol have been stealing from the citizens for years.”

“I do know,” Wonwoo admitted. “Two mayors sent to jail for corruption. But I also believe in us. In prosecutors, and in the justice system. Uiheung people are known for their determination and their perseverance. I intend to use those qualities to stop the corruption.”

“And you think your plan will work, Prosecutor Jeon?” During that second, Jeonghan looked envious and maybe even hopeful.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Wonwoo said with a shrug. “But I’ll need to try first.”

 

\---

 

Lunch was at Renlongxuan, the upscale Chinese restaurant across from the Ministry of Justice building, and Soonyoung’s new favorite restaurant.

“I couldn’t get a reservation for this place during the evening, and this was the only private room they had for lunch,” said Soonyoung with a small pout, as the two of them dined. Soonyoung had ordered several plates of _jiaozi_ and _xiaolongbao_ for the two of them.

“This is one of the best Chinese restaurants in the city,” Wonwoo said as he nodded, taking a sip of green tea. He reached over to grab another potsticker, lightly dipping it in sauce before presenting it before Soonyoung. “Say ‘Ah.’”

Soonyoung complied obediently, opening his mouth as Wonwoo fed him. The older man gave an enormously satisfied grin, eyes crinkling in happiness as he cheerfully munched away at Wonwoo’s potsticker. Wonwoo meanwhile fed himself, as Soonyoung kept talking.

“It was Lee Chan who told me about this restaurant,” explained Soonyoung. “Apparently the lawyers from the Financial Supervisory Commission are extreme foodies. Some lawyers play basketball to relieve stress, and others go hiking, and some apparently eat.”

“Attorney Lee looks like he could afford to eat a few more meals,” Wonwoo pointedly noted.

Soonyoung gave a look of mock indignation. “I think Attorney Lee is at a very fine weight. He’s on the other Ministry of Justice basketball team. I’m really rooting for him. They have a game tomorrow evening, and I want to see if they can finally put an end to the public defenders’ win streak.”

Wonwoo was sore just _thinking_ of that basketball game. “The public defenders haven’t been beaten yet?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “I think it’s their captain. Choi Seungcheol? I don’t know if you’ve ever met him off the court.”

“I think you’re the one who’s mentioned him before,” Wonwoo said, trying to remember. “Did he used to go to school with you or something?”

“We’re both from Donggwang University, Class of 2018,” said Soonyoung. “He was a beast at basketball even at the intramural level. I used to see him play. He was a better basketball player than a student though, so I’m pleasantly surprised to see him at the public defender’s office.”

A plate of _char siu_ and _youtiao_ arrived, and the two of them continued to eat as the food arrived.

“Who won when you played against him?” Wonwoo asked, always welcoming a chance to hear Soonyoung talk about old memories.

“Oh, neither. We were on the law faculty’s basketball team together. We played against the intramural teams from the English department, the philosophy department, the foreign languages department, and so forth,” Soonyoung said, the two of them eating while they talked. “I was very active in university.”

“Physically?” Wonwoo asked, still eating.

“Yeah!” Soonyoung said, brightening up. “I must have told you a million times about the dance crew in Donggwang. Every Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday night, we would meet in the plaza by the library to practice our dance moves.”

“The only time I saw a library was to study,” said Wonwoo, wrinkling his nose. “Did your crew meet to compete in intramural dance battles too?”

Soonyoung shook his head. “Not my crew. It wasn’t one of those competitive hip-hop dance teams that you see today, where the various university teams competed against each other. We only met for fun, to practice our movement and our choreography. It was all about making friends.”

“And that’s where you met people?” Wonwoo was content to let Soonyoung talk, just watching the other man in his good spirits.

“It was! I don’t remember anybody from my classes,” admitted Soonyoung. “I wouldn’t have have remembered Seungcheol if we didn’t play basketball together. All of the friends I made were from my dance team, my basketball team, my taekwondo team, and the Japanese-language club on campus.”

“Did you go to any classes?” Wonwoo said, as a joke. He knew the answer, of course.

“I did,” said Soonyoung with a small harrumph of protest. “I became a lawyer too, didn’t I? But you’re right. I was really saved by my friends who gave me their notes and books to study from. Otherwise, I would have chosen another field to study in.”

“You sound like you had a lot of fun at university,” said Wonwoo, with a nod.

“It was fun for a few years. I’ll be honest,” said Soonyoung, momentarily setting down his chopsticks. “I also went to a lot of parties and a lot of bars.”

“Really wild nights?” He had heard Soonyoung allude to them before.

Soonyoung gave a laugh. “Too wild. I shouldn’t talk about it.”

Wonwoo’s curiosity was piqued. “Tell me more! What’s the point of getting a private room, at Renlongxuan, of all restaurants, if you can’t talk openly?”

Soonyoung blinked, an expression of concession, before sheepishly opening up. “Lots of hookups,” he admitted. “Before I was dating anybody, of course. I was young, you know, and I’d meet men and the gym or at parties.”

“You’ve talked about this before. Didn’t you say you met your first college boyfriend—I think his name was Myungwook—at the gym?” Wonwoo said, trying to show that he remembered the details Soonyoung had confided in him.

“Kinda?” Soonyoung scratched the back of his head as he spoke. “I met him at a party and we hooked up, but I didn’t date him until”—Soonyoung put his hands over his blushing face—”we met at the gym and I saw that butt he had.”

Anybody else might have felt unhappy about hearing their boyfriend talk about an ex that way. Wonwoo was different.

“Better than my butt?” Wonwoo said, raising an eyebrow. “That fine piece of meat you are so fond of?”

Soonyoung reached under the table and slapped Wonwoo’s thigh, light and playful. “Don’t be so full of yourself, Jeon Wonwoo-ssi! Your bottom is flatter than buchimgae. Every man I’ve dated has had a better butt than you.”

“None of the men you’ve dated has my sense of humor,” Wonwoo said with a wink.

Soonyoung gave a dramatic eye-roll. “You’ve told me about what you did when you were in university,” he said, shifting the conversation. “I had fun, but you were boring.”

Wonwoo had to admit that Soonyoung had a point. He didn’t have nearly as many extracurriculars as Soonyoung did.

“I wish I had more fun, but my days and nights were at class or studying. I would barely sleep for weeks,” said Wonwoo with a sigh, remembering all the times that he spent twenty-four hours awake. “During finals week, only coffee flowed through my veins. When the semesters ended, I would sleep for a month.”

“I’m surprised you managed to stay alive,” Soonyoung pointed out. “That couldn’t have been a healthy practice.”

“I’m not just surprised at that,” Wonwoo chuckled again, before beaming with some pride. “I’m surprised that I managed to get perfect scores in all but two of my classes.”

“You’ve told me.” Soonyoung gave an adoring smile. “My boyfriend, the genius,” he said, before reaching over to rest his hand on Wonwoo’s knee.

“Don’t forget the hard work,” said Wonwoo, gesturing with his index finger. “Butt-crazy Kwon-Soonyoung-ssi.”

Soonyoung’s mouth opened in mock indignation. “How dare you!” His voice was smooth, completely at ease with his surroundings. “You could try to do a few more squats when we’re at the gym, instead of just doing those spinning classes. There’s more to exercise than just cardio. At least you play basketball with me.”

“Learning one sport is good enough for me,” responded Wonwoo.

“If you ever learn to play basketball,” answered Soonyoung with a nod. “Let’s see how well you do in our next game.”

“When’s the next time we play?” Wonwoo asked, now returning to his food. It was a bit cold now, but that was fine with him. He preferred to hear Soonyoung speak anyways.

“We have a practice matches first, arranged courtesy of Chan and Jihoon, but our next game in the lawyers’ basketball league is against …” Soonyoung put a finger to his chin in thought. “Against Hankwang Law Firm. Have you heard of them?”

_Crunch._

“Are you okay?” Soonyoung’s look at Wonwoo was puzzled, just for a second.

Wonwoo turned down to look at his hand, where he had snapped his wooden chopsticks clean in two. He turned red again as he set down the broken chopsticks on the table. He hadn’t even realized what he was doing with that involuntary act.

“Sorry, Hankwang, what?” Wonwoo said, trying to act nonchalant even as his mind raced back to that night at the locker room. Mingyu, kissing him at the Nosan Hotel. _Mingyu, appearing fully naked in front of him and flaunting his body._

“Hankwang Law Firm,” said Soonyoung, recovering quickly even as he helped get Wonwoo another pair of chopsticks. “I’ve never encountered them in court, but their names are showing up in some of the court documents I’m dealing with. Hankwang apparently used to be part of Seongmang Law Firm. You’ve heard of _them_ right?”

Wonwoo nodded absently, still focused on thinking of Mingyu’s back and legs. “Yes, Seongmang, the law firm for mobsters.”

“Hankwang was formed by a group of white-collar lawyers who had joined Seongmang, were dissatisfied over the firm’s exclusive focus on criminal affairs, and then formed their own firm,” Soonyoung explained, no longer paying attention to Wonwoo’s actions. “They’ve got arbitration and lobbying practices, which is pretty impressive given how small the firm is. I think every one of their basketball players is also a lawyer.”

“Do they play well?” Wonwoo said, now trying to make conversation nonchalantly.

“We’ll see for ourselves this weekend,” said Soonyoung. Their meal was almost over, and Wonwoo had little appetite anyways, just thinking about Mingyu.

 _It’s another opportunity to see Mingyu_ , Wonwoo thought to himself. _Soonyoung doesn’t know that I kissed Mingyu._

“We will see, right?” Wonwoo said with a nod. “I better put my best game forward.”

\---

“This is insane.”

“It’s completely true.”

“It’s been less than a week.”

“That’s what makes it a jackpot, right?”

Wonwoo stared at the papers and photographs that Jeonghan had presented before him. There were a number of financial documents, but it was the grainy photos that really stuck out to him.

“Somebody should have noticed this earlier,” Wonwoo said with a sigh, while Jeonghan looked triumphant.

“It’s our coup for being the first to catch it.”

Wonwoo looked at the documents, then the photos, and then the documents again.

“This is insane,” Wonwoo said, shaking his head again. “You’re telling me that this first man, Chae Gichang, lives in a $5-million dollar penthouse in Seosoon Beach. On a public servant’s salary?”

Jeonghan gave an enthusiastic nod. “According to the Uiheung city manager’s records, Chae Gichang pulls in exactly $92,450 a year in salary as a government engineer for the Uiheung municipal administration. That doesn’t even cover the cost of that German-made convertible that he drives.”

Wonwoo took a second to stare again at the pictures of the luxury apartment and vehicle. “If I knew how lucrative it would be as a government engineer, I wouldn’t have been a prosecutor.”

“The second man, Koh Jungeol, is equally bad as a violator, but not in the same way,” explained Jeonghan. “When we asked the police in Hwayang to put him under surveillance, the police told us that they already had him under observation. He’s been repeatedly spotted at mafia-connected gambling dens in Hwayang and Uiheung. He’s also been seen flying in and out of Macau and Las Vegas too.”

“I want to start with Chae,” said Wonwoo. “We’ve heard claims that Segye Geonsol bribed Uiheung’s Deputy City Manager. It’s a possibility that Segye Geonsol’s bribery reaches into the Ministry of Transportation, but I want to work with the city engineer first.”

“So we go after Chae Gichang?” Jeonghan said, suddenly seeming happy.

“Exactly,” said Wonwoo. “We summon him and demand he account for his unexplained wealth. And then we’ll use that information to force him to roll over on the other members of the bribery scheme.” He jabbed at the photos with a finger. “This is our second lucky break, Prosecutor Yoon. This is the first good evidence of wrongdoing we’ve found. We’re going to use this to proceed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can find me on Twitter @west_of_autumn. I welcome your comments, feedback, and suggestions!


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